main
side
curve
  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Star Wars Star Wars: After the Awakening

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth , Jan 9, 2016.

  1. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Susulur Dha'tra
    Space, Yavin IV

    When the orders came down from Mandalor Dha'tra had a bit of a personal problem. Namely he didn't like the order. Still it was true his shots had missed their marks, but they were long range, half-tried attacks that likely would work best either when the enemy craft was not as skilled, and when the warning markers were not elongated as far as his distance shots had been. That was the down side. The up side was that he had fired any shots of support to that nargletches spawn of a dikut that didn't deserve it. Not after getting a Mando killed and upsetting Goran, all because the man could not keep his cool, as was seen in this rebooting of a battle that was de-escalating prior to the mans involvement.To be honest a part of him wanted to blast the man just for what he had done. Still he would try to do a little more.

    Still orders were orders. From Mandalore, that was a part he would have to repeat as he thumbed his speed up and prepped for the furball as he weaved around the outskirts first before diving through an edge. Something which gave him an awesome angle to watch the proceeding purple wave of death wipe out a few transports, and suicide collisions and trooper spills as he lined up a side angle for the jump. The micro was a short time after the Mandalor's due to the drift to the side before jumping and so made sure the Mandalor would be well into atmo before Susulur reverted at the edge of the atmosphere over a hundred kilometers off mark so as to cover from a distance to an over watch position from high above.

    His focus was the battle above, the danger below the Mandalor had taken for himself, and as Susulur took a beat to take in the cloud of battle above, fingering the talisman or scale or whatever you called it where it was beneath his armor. He knew. Before the computer had finished reformating and IDing the friendly-ish Resistance fighters and larger ship as orange, and the enemy First Order as red. Those small debris were troopers and they were too ordered and he did not like how they were in relation to the dikut. As soon as the data scrolled up he targeted a cluster for maximum damage or kills and let loose a concussion missile. Pulling up his lasers he targeted the closest ship and leading his target with his gut and computer algorithms he stitched and tracked before angling to the next closest target before broadcasting.

    Selecting a non-encrypted open frequency blanket protocol he made his statement. "None shall pass. This world is now quarantined. Any suspected attempt to breach will be terminated."

    TAG: Sinrebirth, @ All in space battle.
     
  2. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    GM Approved Combo:
    -------------
    IC: Ulic Qel-Droma and Belila Gambros (Bre)
    Yavin Temple


    Ulic took stock of Bre and Strang. She was earnest, even if hardened around the edges. Strang was wary, and had his blaster to hand. Ulic's blue blade was still ignited, and his declaration, and her response, hung in the air.

    Fett didn't especially care as they spoke, and spoke to Goran via helmet comm. 'Qel-Droma? Is this guy for real?'

    Goran shrugged. 'Took down Manda'lor the Indomitable; made us serve auretiise in the Great Sith War. Four thousand years ago mind you.'

    'And we're sure Snoke led here?'

    'The pilot of the shuttle was contaminated with the trace; it leads here. Atropos simply pointed us the way with the tree split.'

    Fett lifted his rifle to Bre's question. 'We've tracked Snoke here. His shuttle has a specific isotope. My client has given me the data to follow it, and the isotope attaches to the pilot too.'

    'Pretty useless kark, if you ask me,' said Goran.

    'So there is a third Force user here.' Fett reasoned, looking to Bre and Strang. Bre frowned, but said nothing, as Fett continued to speak. 'It's already too late, and I have a target to kill before more Imps
    arrive and smash the Resistance.'

    A target to kill? So that why he was here. Snoke? Now, who would hire him to kill Snoke? But Qel-Droma shook his head. "There is nobody else here. You're simply wrong."

    Now Bre really frowned. Fett might have been many things, but seldom was he wrong about a target he was tracking. Unless he was being set up as well. Qel looked at her. "The ritual requires three. Some of the much older teachings refer to the Rule of Three, not Two. Ku'ar Danar is among those Sith. So he and a second body inhabited by him already down there. Once they obtain a third, the spirit itself, which is pinned to the Temple, will be free; it is trapped by a relic called the Heart; a small pebble sized sphere which is surrounded by other pebbles in the floor of the burial chamber below." He paused for a moment, before continuing. "I built the Temple to use the Heart at a later date." Bree looked from the temple to the man and back to the temple. HE built the temple?

    Fett leveled his weapons. "So I should take the lead. Move." Fett suddenly looked towards Bre. "And don't get in my way."

    Bre snorted out loud. "Get in YOUR WAY?!?!" I woudlnt DREAM of it! Besides, he said force SENSITIVE, not necessary a force user." she stated, suddenly giving a grin, while she backed away. She gestured to Stang to back up as well, while she made a gesture for Fett to take the lead. She then looked over at Qel-Droma. "He's tracking something. And I doubt he's wrong. And Im betting this place has more than one way in. Even if it was added, after your ummmm... after you left. And there are ways to hide a body signature." Bre gave a jerk of her head towards Fett and his companion. "So, let them in. Might be whats needed to keep him busy, and give us a chance to grab our companion. Especially, if the area is about to be run over by Stormtroopers."

    Bre waited for something to happen. As she knew it would, with Fett standing here. he was not one to take NO, if his reputation was true.

    Bre had no idea what she stated that ticked off Qel-Droma so suddenly as the space around her suddenly felt as if it has shifted. She braced herself, as the man suddenly bared his teeth at her, like some enraged Bothan.

    "I will kill anyone Force sensitive who comes in. I have damned my soul to prevent this, and embraced every dark side technique you could possibly dream of, Jedi. We cannot rely upon Mandalorians -"

    She had not heard anyone say the words Jedi towards her, with such distaste, and she did her best not to physically recoil from the verbal attack. But whatever he was going to say about the Mando's must have brought up some nasty feelings. The area around her grew hot and angry, and she heard Fett's voice.

    "Oh kark it." uttered Fett.

    Goran reacted to the heated words, with no warning, his beskad burst out of his hilt and swung up. He and Quel-Droma were locked into a battle. Qel-Droma blocked the former with a quick side slash which was designed to deflect the blow to the side but not fight it - Goran took the moment to punch Qel-Droma in the chest and he bowled forward - and Fett triggered his backpack to leap over them. Qel-Droma's hand shot out and caught Fett's ankle, clearly using the Force to hold himself down, just as his lightsaber swung back up to remove Goran's neck - until Strang shot the blade so the angle entirely changed and Goran, backing away, escaped the blow by a fraction.

    Strang looked at Bre, and his expression betrayed his annoyance with the interference. "We're being played, and we can't have either of these guys screw up." Bre gave Strang a strange face. "They might have some other agenda's, but some of Droma's words rang true. It would explain why they wanted the ship to crash. What if the General had came here instead?"

    Bre's attention was suddenly diverted as Fett dropped down, kicking off the corridor wall with his foot and then hitting his jetpack as he hit the ground - with his feet up nailing Droma in the chest with both of his feet, while his companion, as ticked off as Bre had EVER seen a Mondo, in full battle rage, lunged at Droma as well, as they all teetered and stumbled from the top of the steps, working to drive Droma down, into the depths.

    Towards the ritual.

    Bre quickly looked over at Strang. "Some of what Droma says is right I feel. Make sure the General does NOT come here. If we lose Genkal, is one thing. But having the general possessed...would be far worse." Bre shuddered. "There ARE some things worse than death..." she whispered softly. But Bre had one thing, that she was sure others had not counted on. Only because they could not sense it. But she would not be used.

    Her fingers tapped out a message to Fred still near the hidden bikes. He would signal if anyone else came in behind them, as long as he was still safe to do so. Then, if all else failed, he would follow Strang, or make his way back alone, to the Falcon, and BB-8. So Fred hunkered down, digging a small hole for himself and watched.

    Bre watched the three teeter, and then fall. Bre gave Strang a nod. "Let's go save Genkal. With any luck, they will provide the cover we need. But..." Bre looked over at Strang. "Anything happens, you get out. And dont look back."

    Bre drew her blaster, and began to following the flailing sets of arms and legs that were leading the way.
     
  3. Scapro Tyler

    Scapro Tyler Jedi Knight star 3

    Registered:
    Oct 17, 2015
    IC: Scapro TylerCoruscant, Lower Levels
    A modest apartment, dark and musty smelling.Vines leftover from the Vong-forming of Coruscant during the war still clung to the outside hallways as the YVH-1 droids hand't quite made it down to this section as of yet. Scapro knew he was taking his life in his own hands living down here yet what choice did he have? Corellia seemed to be more interested in marching to the beat of the First Order than actually being a place worthy of living at this moment.

    Scapro sat at his kitchen counter, thinking of home. He had never really settled anywhere in the galaxy yet he still saw Corellia as home. He would still be there if it wasn't for the blasted First Order. Having once been an Imperial officer, he knew he had to be on a list of deserters to be tried for treason under the new regime. If only the Imperial Remnant had remained aligned with the Galactic Alliance after the Vong war. If only people could stop trying to emulate Palpatine.

    Alas, here he was in a run down apartment. He wore a black flight suite, the blood stripes on his legs were earned at the academy and he had worn them ever since. He had a blaster pistol in a holster, hanging low on his hip. The noise picked up outside which caused him to instinctively reach out and touch the butt of his blaster. Probably just the droids, cleaning the mess from the last war.

    The image of General Bel Iblis appeared before him. He looked at the general and thought about not answering. What did he have to earn? He was older now. He had no wife or children to keep safe. Why not let the galaxy fight it out without his help? Hadn't he done enough?

    That thought left him quickly as he shook his head. No, he would not be safe until this war was over. Being a deserter was one thing however being a captain of a VicStar would catch up to him. Someone would make him pay for his perceived slights against the Imperial way of life. He would touch a button on the receiver, allowing his voice and image to be seen.

    "General. It has been quite awhile. Still fighting the good fight?"

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  4. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Chapter Eighteen

    Jacen Solo beetled his brow. The vision, or sending, had ended. He had lost Jaina, and apparently, less metaphorically, had lost Ben. Their relationship had always been a bit estranged, by dint of the need of their parents to keep them separated. By the time they were teenagers they were full blown strangers. By the time of the Yuuzhan Vong War, several events made that void uncrossable.

    Chewbacca and Anakin's death, when Ben believed he could have saved them. Jacen and Jaina's elevation to heroes of the Yuuzhan Vong War he had been forbidden from joining. Then, when Luke named his son after Obi-Wan also, it had felt like he had been replaced, but as much as Luke named Jaina as the Sword of the Jedi, the Force had made a decision, and Luke was very often a channel for that. It was quite hard for him to relate to shared experiences that they hadn't partook in.

    Jacen anticipated that Luke would decide to dedicate himself to Ben's training, and that would resolve matters. Clearly something had gone wrong. But it wasn't tied to the coming storm. Jacen knew that he had to focus on that, but he also knew that his input was required to make that future.

    And so, Jacen cast out his senses, and as best as possible tried to get a sense of the source of the voices, conscious that they had been drawn from another place.

    He found the connection close to where Jaina had been, strangely, and Jacen wondered if the Force had been throwing him a proverbial bone. A battle of darkness, a caedus, was due.

    With a set of his face, Jacen Solo decided to hunt his brother and his mysterious master.

    ---
    IC: Darth Dreadwar
    The End

    They had it.

    Darth Dreadwar and Azgath N'Dul.

    Both Ku'ar Danar.

    Merged they would be complete, re-powered, reborn. A mere fragment of themselves had regained all their previous glory, perfected the Nilbremah ritual, had mastered how to core out a Pawn, had learned how to master the ritual that had restored them to the present.

    Imagine what they could do together.

    Darth Dreadwar was aware of the interlopers. Of Bre, of Strang, of Boba Fett falling down towards them, of Goran and Susular in tow, of Leia and Han Solo closing to assist. Of the Padawan Sabaru, of the presence of Tholme desperately resisting his invasion of his aged body.

    He was aware of the gasping breath of Genkal, of the resolve of Aquilla, of the naive determination of Lysa, of the unbridled anger of those on their way with Vincent and Kodo and Kyle, of Atropos spreading confusion by threading through the trooper formation, causing it to spread out, causing TIEs to dodge out in panic; more confusion.

    Sabaru touched speed to his feet, a speed which moved quicker than Droma, Fett and Goran fought on the way down. Strang would barely acknowledge the flash; Bre might catch it, but Droma had shoved out with the Force at her and she would be unable to stop the teen, another moment of overlap.

    And so as Sabaru rushed into the chamber, as Bre, Strang, Fett, Beviin and Ulic Qel-Droma fell and dove after the Padawan, with ships dropping from orbit with Stormtroopers replete, with the Falcon on its way, Darth Dreadwar the Magnificent held the hand of his Tholme body out to his N'Dul body.

    They tore the essence from Sabaru as the first to arrive, the young Padawan's body collapsing to the ground, and with a yank they mingled it between their hands, and reached through the gap, blood on their palms electrifying across the gap, intending to solidify the bond between them, connecting all the bodies of Darth Dreadwar near and far.

    Finally, the Heart of Ku'ar Danar glowed on the floor, a tiny sphere of stone gleaming red to demonstrate that the connection between it and Danar was being burned free of his anchor to the Heart, the ritual completing.

    There it is.

    The voice permeated every person in the Yavin system. It was malevolent. It was powerful. It was insidious.

    From the shadows of the Temple ritual chamber a figure in black robes stepped forth. The hooded cloak draped his across him, his chin all that was showing. It was a tight slash of a mouth. A grim set.

    As Fett, Bre, Goran, Qel-Droma and Strang arrived, hot on the heels of Sabaru, the new figure threw his hand into the air, towards the ceiling above. In a terrible exertion, the entire Temple exploded upwards, their new foe using the focusing nature of the Temple to power his act; the heavy stones were nothing more than twigs in the breeze to him, and masonry was hurled in every direction. Everyone was thrown back to the ground; any ship in immediate orbit would have buffeted; any ship too close would have been forced to dodge massive stones and a spray of ground and mud. The very steps that they had taken down into the Temple depths were rent into the air; the sun bore down on a chamber that has not seen day for over four thousand years; the torches were blew out, the palpable darkness surrounding the system was shattered and replaced not with a soft unease but a full blown scattering of what could only be described as the fetid echo of stale death.

    In short, the ritual was broken.

    The act of hurling the Temple apart created a blaze of air, which threw back the hood of their foe. An unnatural sheen to his face, the grey-white pallor, skin drawn close to his face, the jaw almost hanging loosely from his skull, the historic wound running up between his black, beaded eyes.

    The very appearance of Supreme Leader Snoke of the First Order.

    He drew his cloak back down with one hand and with the other shot out a fork of orange lightning burst free, a blaze of energy which slammed into Tholme's body, a powerful root taking form and sending the corpse hurtling towards the remnant wall. Strictly speaking they were underground now, but the explosion of power had blown out the edges so there were more within a bowl.

    Fett recovered quickest and took stock immediately and opened fire with his entire arsenal at Snoke, the blaze throwing shadows up into the cowl of his hood. A second hand shot up and the blaster bolts ricocheted from an invisible barrier, and the missiles and flechette's burst metres from him. Heat would buffet them, and Fett activated his rocket launcher, drawing attention high as Goran ran in with his beskad swinging. Snoke bifurcated his attention and flung them both aside, out of the pit, and turned on the still smoking corpse of Tholme, still leeched to by Darth Dreadwar.

    The connection between the two bodies of the Sith spirit was cognisant, but not perfected. In many ways it was more dangerous to them than useful, especially when Snoke had hit them with a potent Force drain mid-flow. Dreadwar checked; he was still attached to the Heart of Golg.

    The pebble beneath Snoke's foot.

    Snoke cast his eye to the body of Azgath N'Dul. 'How quaint. An Imperial Prefect. The perfect cover for a Sith. You would have made an impressive Baneite. But you would never have accepted being the apprentice, and I could never again be it. Not after Tenebrous. Nor after Sidious.'

    Genkal would be coming to, and taking stock slowly, drew his service blaster to hand. 'Oh my, am I rambling, like an overly confident villain? My late Holocron has drawn my new apprentice to me, years in the making, my candidate is collecting the last legacy of Valkorian, my Empire is poised to seize the Galaxy. All is ready.'

    'I am a foot away from victory.' He leaned down his boot on the Heart of Darth Dreadwar, the pressure causing it to crack.

    Dreadwar tried to lift Tholme's hand. The body was charred, exhausted, broken. The N'Dul body would be barely conscious. Genkal was glancing at Bre, trying to catch her eye, and then Snoke pushed his foot down. Strang was similarly trying to ready his weapons without being noticed, which was hard as Snoke was in essence looking directly at this Dreadwar chap who was in-front of his line of sight.

    'Know that you have been killed by Darth Plagueis the Wise.'

    'Know that your death signifies the end.'

    He pushed down. The Heart shattered, and Tholme's body was rent with pain, as was the N'Dul one, as were all bodies of Darth Dreadwar the Magnificent.

    A magnificent fool, perhaps.

    The Force sung with the death of a powerful Force user, and Bre would feel it as much as Leia or Kyp or Stele or what was left of N'Dul. A billowing of blue energy surrounded the area which had been the Temple.

    Strang lifted his weapon and Snoke - Plagueis - simply removed his head from his body with a gesture of his skeletal hand, and then Genkal shot him in the back. Snoke cried out in pain, in surprise, in anger, as the bolt burst from the right of his chest, and Ulic Qel-Droma, who had been silent for so long, ignited his blade and launched forward.

    Another voice shouted out. 'Now, Bre!'

    Kyp had arrived, purple blade ignited.

    Snoke gestured as he stumbled, a simply moment of mastery and deception, and where one would have expected another act with the Force, a small silver and gold hilt dropped into his hand. It spat a blade of bloodshine, and from his free hand a venerable storm of lightning burst out to engulf Bre - an aside, while he focused on other things; potentially a mistake was being made to underestimate the girl.

    The battle was on.

    ---
    Falcon

    Leia grit her teeth for a moment. Han was just as brash with his piloting as he ever - she had forgotten that, having not flown with him and the Falcon for so many years - but the drop ship was a considerably more flimsy design than a hardy YT-1300; it crumpled and spun away; the troopers were unceremoniously crushed and Leia cringed at the idea of blood splatters marring the surface.

    The First Order was pushing them harder than it had during the 'proper' battle. With a spin in the seat of the gunwell, she began firing at the troopers, but it was not a particularly pleasant feeling to have to shoot down men in cybernetic suits, acting as if they were supermen. Praxon's actions had caught them unaware, but the TIEs were aware that she was in top and rolled to the bottom. With a grin, Leia unbuckled herself free of the chair after a sustained burst against the remaining troopers, and a shout - 'Hold her as steady as you can!' - with a quick climb she rushed down the ladders to the bottom gunwell and was in the seat; she had both TIEs in a surprise burst and they were gone.

    Beautiful.

    Leia then pulled back on the headset and with a smile added. 'I flipped for bottom, Han.'

    Wyn made another face. Maybe Leia needed to get into the role as well. Wyn scanned the map. Corona Squadron was adapting to the Imperial efforts, and the rogue blastboat was doing what it did best.

    And then, with Leia looking down upon it, the Temple exploded, and Slave I was buffeted by the shock as much as the Aggressor fighter was clubbed by stone. Because of how close the troop transports were to the surface - some poised to reach the Temple by sheer numbers - even Rhoen and Corona Squadron would be required to take evasive action; especially when a stone sheered an s-foil from Rhoen's X-wing, gravity promptly attempting to bring him down.

    To make things doubly troubling for the entire entangled group - Susular Dha'tra's micro jump had also put him on the edge of a atmosphere which could only be described as revoking; it buffeted him and sent his ship into a tailspin, and a quick-thinking Stormtrooper put a grappling hook on his ship and was pulling it down with them; the same tactic which in macrocosm the failing Imperial ships at Jakku had used three decades ago; he was going down, and fast, even as the hooked transport was spilling troopers into the void, one of which would slam, all too loudly, into his front viewport.

    Stele had been threading through the battle when the shockwave hit, having set himself up to micro jump after Atropos - into his trap - but the shockwave caught him, and the next moment later his shields were damaged and he was spinning up, out of the atmosphere, a sitting duck, but so too were a handful of transports, a single other TIE, and a Corona Squadron X-wing - also spinning, were Atropos to micro-jump back in. It was generally a mess, it could be said; formations were astray, and Stele was very exposed right now.

    The Falcon was further away than not, but even that was hit by the shockwave rippling through the atmosphere; the ship would be knocked out of control but Leia could not concentrate on Han's flying skills. In the Force, Leia would stagger under the sensation, and even relative Force mutes around them would feel a wave of nausea; Rhoen, Praxon, Wyn, Lysa, Corona Squadron, even the troopers themselves.

    Something had just got out.

    Trooper transports were scattering from the disturbance and coming down - mostly intact - across the forest surrounding the Temple. Wyn quickly drew up numbers and sent them to Praxon, Leia, Corona Squadron, and the frigate in orbit.

    A hundred or so confirmed surviving troopers - with potentially double that - half a dozen life signs in the Temple wreckage.

    Lightsabers.

    Genkal's beacon suddenly lit up.

    'Bre's found him, General.'

    Leia spoke up, but encountered static. She issued orders anyway. 'Corona Lead, cover us. We need to extract them; whatever it is down there, it's out.'

    Comms had been hit by the shockwave; Leia did not know of Bre's warning; did not know if her message had gotten to Corona Squadron; Rhoen would not know of Lysa's panicked cry for him; nobody would know just how bad things were down below.

    And how they had to run.

    ---
    Crossing into the Gordian Reach

    It is said that hyperspace muffles the Force, that it cuts you off from that binding energy. It largely depends upon the Force user, and in this instance, it would definitely not be the case.

    The ripple that echoed from the Yavin system, perhaps amplified by the Sith Temples there, perhaps not, perhaps it was simply that powerful, created the Star Destroyer that bore Vincent, Kodo, Kyle and the others. They were less than an hour from the star system, and the two before Niathal - the Kiffu, and the other - looked to each other when they sensed it.

    It felt like dark laughter.

    Kyle grimaced.

    He recognised that voice, as would Vincent and Kodo. It was that of the Holocron. Kyle reached out to steady Kodo. 'It's okay, it's okay.'

    I told you that you couldn't escape. That your coming was foretold. The one of fire, the one of darkness. The Knights of Ren knew the truth because I gave it to them. My little apprentice to be. My very own Kylo Ren.

    The voice echoes from inside Kodo, and Kyle grimaced; he heard it, even as it manipulated the Kel Dor's voice box from within his throat. 'Stay calm, stay calm.'

    Kyle's hand touched Kodo's shoulder, and his conscious was suddenly drawn into Kodo's, and consciousness would rob them both. In the Force, to Vincent, to the other two, it would feel as if a black hole in the Force had opened.

    Kyle and Kodo would be found on the floor when anyone came to find them, not overly far from the Crow. Jan was shouting, trying to wake them, and Callista promptly notified Vincent - not that he wouldn't know - and the other two simply looked to Vincent before even Callista contacted him. The Kiffu spoke first. 'You should save your friends. We shall reveal why we must stay away from your Jedi and Sith friends if you wish.'

    Niathal smiled sweetly, completely unaware of what was going on but revelling in the distraction. 'I can always draw up the plan of action if the Force issues are too time consuming. Nearly an hour until we arrive, after all.'

    Jan was beside herself. She had never felt Kyle with skin this cold. Jan simply couldn't feel he was here - it was like he was absent from her. She found herself grasping for reason, not knowing that her fear was feeding the anomaly.

    Were Vincent to touch Kyle or Kodo, he would too collapse, and be drawn into the shadows beyond.

    --
    Somewhere

    Inside the nowhere, Kodo and Kyle would find themselves standing in a simulacrum of the Yavin confrontation; correct, in real time, but everything was slightly out of focus, as if being looked at from afar, but magnified to the point that the quality was reduced. They would arrive as Tholme's Padawan was consumed, and equally be buffeted by the surge of every as the interloper in the ritual were present.

    The man - Snoke, Darth Plagueis - he spoke as if he was talking not only to the assembled Bre, Strang and this 'Darth Dreadwar', but as if he was speaking to Kyle and Kodo as well, his reference to his apprentice resulting in a slight turn of his eye towards Kodo.

    Darth Plagueis had drew on the connection between him and Kodo to connect him to this very moment. The spectral visage of Kyp Durron appeared to challenge the Sith Lord, and Plagueis' voice seemed to echo for Kodo alone, as Kyle struggled to understand this sending.

    His eye rolled to the body of Azgath N'Dul, which was struggling to stand. It was a last piece of Darth Dreadwar, relentless in his desire to survive even an all consuming Force drain. A memory would drive into Kodo's mind; of this man, on Dagobah, and a woman, in early middle age, in tan Jedi robes, a beautiful woman, before the dark cave of Dagobah. N'Dul was throttling her, and Plagueis' voice was echoing out, from the past, the same words he had said then, as he did now.

    'You want to kill him, don't you?'

    Then Darth Plagueis was shot, and N'Dul's body seemed to stand up as a shadow; his spirit was attempting to flee away, edging towards Bre so he could perform a trick that Kodo's mind would tell him was essence transfer.

    He intended to consume the young woman and escape.

    ---
    Unknown Regions, Super Star Destroyer

    Unbeknownst to Jaina Solo, there was even a connection to the Ravager, to events in the Yavin system. Impossibly, perhaps, but it was because, though she would not be aware, that this was Snoke's flagship. He had an intimate connection with the darkness here, aboard the Ravager, for it had nurtured him as much as he had nurtured it, for two long decades.

    In many ways, Star Destroyers, with their dagger design, were flying Sith Temples, and that the old Republic had initially designed the predecessor Centurion-class battlecruiser only showed how thoroughly Vitiate's Sith had infected the Republic before their emergence. Darth Nihilus had used this to his advantage to possess a hulk of a battlecruiser and had propagated the Dark Wars, for example.

    However, these connections could be useful, and dangerous, and, as is often said, there is power in names, even those taken in vain.

    There was a stumble in the flow of the Ravager, in the great and impossibly empty ship.

    And so while Cappie wrestled with the system, notifying her it had found an open channel to the Yavin system anyway, and sent her signal along it, but there was some kind of interference in-system so Cappie would keep trying, it also told her that this was an Eclipse-class Star Dreadnaught, complete with an axial superlaser, the Force wobbled tremendously.

    They were several kilometres from the main parts of the ship, and arguably very close to the aperture for the weapon. The Force was so muffled it could not tell Jaina exactly how many people were aboard, nor could Cappie, but the guns still shooting apart asteroids told her that there were plenty; the Force had been with her when she found a place to land.

    An echo in the Force; a deep voice, a grave voice. There is another.

    Another?

    That was Ben's voice.

    Supreme Leader, what do you mean?

    No reply.

    Again, the deeper voice. There is another. The exact same tone. A recording? An echo?

    Ben was aboard? And talking too...? Cappie supplied a schematic of the super-laser itself, and a tractor beam station nearby. There was some potential in using the station on the aperture - to disable the weapon.

    Cappie trilled for her attention, attention that would be split, because the Force was also telling her that her mother was in danger, via the link to the Ravager.

    Mortal danger.

    'What is this? A latent connection between here and there?' The masculine voice was inside Jaina's head so much as outside it. It promptly emerged beside her, detaching from her skin, almost, a copy of her which promptly evolved; a tall man in golden armour, eyes aglow, holding himself heavily. 'Your love for your mother will prove you undoing.'

    A lightsaber ignited in his hand. 'Let us see if the skills I have acquired can be put to use. The Force has awakened, and I have every intention of taking advantage. No true Sith would not push every envelope that they can.'

    'And I, Darth Dreadwar, am just that. Surrender, so that I might live.'

    The man whose plans had come to naught, who could merely now be considered an eternal annoyance, was spreading himself across the flaw within the Force, caused by many things beyond their understanding, but undoubtedly complicated further by the destruction of Hosnian Prime, and the loss of so many.

    He was beaten, there was little doubt of that, but was he dead?

    Darth Plagueis had scattered a potential threat, and taken its place, but a war was messy, it left loose ends - and these kind of loose ends would make it very easy for people to detect Jaina Solo if she was not careful.

    Even an under-crewed Super Star Destroyer had the potential to field hundreds of thousands of crew. It was just as much about that as it was the threat before her.

    TAG: Ktala, HanSolo29, Tim Battershell, @Mitth-Fisto, Lady Belligerent, Darth_wanderguard, Kahn_Iceay, galactic-vagabond422
    ---
    IC: Luke Skywalker
    The Wrong One

    K'Kruhk and his ersatz Lothal team made their way thorough the underground tunnel network and eventually arrived at a quiet but burnt out farm, complete with an elderly YT-1300 in one of the fields. Nuna grazed erratically around, ignoring fences which were too holed to allow for prevent the small creatures from moving with aplomb around the area. Save for the state of disrepair, all that was otherwise of note were the shallow graves of an entire family of four, which they had narrowly avoided upending with their drilling.

    'Hera' and 'Zeb' had made some success in undoing the harm they had done to K'Kruhk's former pupil, but not enough to restore her to consciousness. She was to be the last thing to be transferred to the YT, of course called the Ghost. It was as much a sad joke of a Resistance cell as any - it showed just how stretched they were in opposing the Empire.

    Hera eventually chose to wake K'Kruhk when they had fully unloaded, which was a few days after the initial contact and K'Kruhk still hadn't stirred. With her hands planted on her hips, she seemed generally unimpressed. 'You may be going through some kind of existential crisis, Jedi, but we don't have time for it.'

    'There is a war on. We need to strike where we can best.' She gritted her teeth. 'Where do you need us to take you?'

    Unbidden images of Luke, the real one, and Librium, the unreal one, would appear to K'Kruhk's eyes. Only the latter would remain; the Holocron had reactivated itself. 'It's obvious, isn't it?'

    Hera gasped. 'Master Skywalker?'

    'No you dolt,' he cut her off, before K'Kruhk could respond. 'But it is obvious, isn't it? Surely you can see what the centre of all things involved will be? If the Empire was to seize the centre, where would it go?'

    The Force sung with the death of Tholme, for a brief moment, and their unconscious Jedi bucked in her comatose state - her master had died. Her mental image darkened, as her dreams became that of despair. The lights in the ceiling and consoles of the drill flickered, and Librium peered over at her prone form. 'Oh, she has some real potential.' He looked back at K'Kruhk. 'Can I have? If you don't get how obvious the answer is, I think I should have?'

    TAG: BobaMatt
    ---
    IC: Bel Iblis
    Junction system

    Time was tarrying. With the First Order having specifically targeted Generis Bel Iblis could deduce that other HoloNet relays would be targeted, and so he could not wait for Scapro for much longer.

    The signal connected at last.

    The man seemed pleasantly pleased, almost as if he was at peace with his decision to throw in with Bel Iblis once more, almost eager to strike back. The aged General smiled in greeting. 'Captain, it has, hasn't it? The crew of the Vulnerator has missed your wit ever since your departure, I hear.'

    Bel Iblis found himself smiling. And there was very little to smile about. He returned to the present, not their late night chats beside a lomin'ale nightcap. 'I have a captain-ship in mind for you, but first I need you to do a minor task for me.'

    His visage was replaced with that of data. A shot of the star system appeared briefly, that of the Coruscant system. Coruscant showed up as the fourth planet, as normal, and then the visage nudged to the third planet in-system, Vandor-3.

    'I had a report of ships making their way to Vandor-3, and also of ships lifting off the surface of Coruscant, very hush-hush, too. Officially the ships were not acknowledged, and my friends in the CSU couldn't find out anything about them. And then those friends see dead, and I only had his remote relay, set in place weeks ago, left.'

    A pause. 'I've never really trusted the idea of Coruscant as an independent planet, and its prominence in the Centrist camp only made me trust it less.' There was no apology in his voice. It had been a New Republic capital for nearly as long as the Imperial one before the capital had moved on to Denon, but old habits died slowly - and potentially with good reason, with agents dying.

    'General Thaal is in-charge there and he's not replied to my single official contact - I worded it as a general check-up of all military units but only sent it to him. Which is suspicious or worrying, to boot.' Bel Iblis paused again. 'I need you to sneak aboard one of these hush-hush flights from Coruscant. I have appended data showing their routines in the initial data dump, which will decrypt itself now you've received my contact. But you need to be careful of -'

    The window blew in, and a gas canister was lobbed through. 'Seditious elements! Come out with your hands up!'

    Stormtrooper voices.

    That was quick.

    Bel Iblis had no choice but to cut the call and remotely trigger the self-destruct of the small relay. It beeped, and any half minded soldier would recognise a good sized charge attached to it. The hologrammic showed it had ten seconds to go off.

    --
    Resistance digs

    Temmin had the diplomacy mission turned aside, and Nien Nunb and some of the others of Black Squadron went out of their way to express disdain for politics. Temmins efforts on the 88 message, however, bore some particularly concerning fruit.

    This is agent Mellar. New Republic assets have arrived in-system. The senior politicians are looking to haggle with the Resistance members present until a task force can be assembled. Send assets as soon as possible.

    The encryption was a much older First Order one, which had been cracked four or so years ago by the Resistance - it was also breaking many of the conditions of Intelligence reporting - that you were supposed to keep it short and sweet.

    But it was definitely there.

    Temmin's astromech confirmed that the stream had hit the local relay and been fired towards Coruscant - deep in New Republic territory even now. Too deep for a First Order relay, R7 observed.

    Regardless, it was what it was.

    And deeply woven into local politics and diplomacy too boot. The fruits of success meant that it was pretty hard to avoid politicians of you were successful. Looked like Temmin would be hitting his head against some already. Proverbially and potentially literally.

    TAG: Scapro Tyler, Penguinator, Ramza
    ---
    IC: Carr Damask
    Disabled star courier

    The light cruiser of Argen Devalie rook aboard the courier when it's cloak dropped, revealing a very expensive looking ship. That it then deposited a Muun into the cargo bay only affirmed its expensive mature.

    The cargo bay was empty, and the Muun, dressed in the garb of a Banking Clan official, spoke up, the microphones picking it up. 'Hello? Is anyone, well, there? My name is Carr Damask. The second, that is. My father was the first. I appreciate the need for security, but I would very much like to beat the Imperials to their target.'

    'My hyperdrive is very specialist, perhaps it can be 'scrounged' to assist your vessel?'

    The two droids interacted in curiosity and concern. A Muun was not something young often found alone in the space ways. And Muunilinst was very firmly within Imperial Space.

    The Imperial task force collected up the last go the returning shuttles and accelerated; they would be jumping far too soon. The droids, however, did undo the safely locks on the hyperdrive. It was reluctantly done, but Argen usually knew what he was doing.

    Usually.

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay
     
  5. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Kodo Prine

    It struck Kodo like a stiff burst of force lightning - the ripple that echoed from Yavin. Confusion. Something was happening.

    The force throbbed with cruel laughter, and Kodo lurched inwardly. His body was no longer his own. He felt Kyle reach out to steady him. 'It's okay, it's okay.'

    I told you that you couldn't escape. That your coming was foretold. The one of fire. The one of darkness. The Knights of Ren knew the truth because I gave it to them. My little apprentice to be. My very own Kylo Ren.

    He wanted to vomit at the comparison, but he was stricken completely still as the voice emanated from his own vocal chords.

    'Stay calm, stay calm,' Kyle urged. Had Kodo been in command of his own faculties, something above a whimper might have escaped his Kel Dor mouth. A strangled wail, perhaps. But he was silent, and still but for the terrified quiver which sprung from deep within his bones and spread outward like a cancer.

    Then Kyle touched his shoulder, and all was black. The world, the force, Kodo, Kyle. Everything, black as starless night for a moment.

    Kodo opened his eyes, and he was with Kyle again. On Yavin.

    Snoke! Snoke, just as he had appeared from the holocron - the truth of it now plain - was in a titanic struggle. Everything was softly out of focus, like a dream. Or a nightmare.

    Kodo spied N'Dul - barely conscious, struggling to his feet amidst a force drain by Snoke... No, Plagueis. Everything became crystal clear in an instant as an avalanche of memories returned to him.

    The woman from his memories was the only reason Kodo had escaped, the only reason he had survived. His friend had ushered him to safety, hidden him for a moment, and rushed him to the nearest ship. They had escaped together, the two of them alone - any others for which they might have cared were already dead or had escaped themselves. On Dagobah, she had helped him to understand.

    Then a series of pictures. N'Dul. The swamp. The cave. Her dying breaths.

    Rage.

    You want to kill him, don't you?

    A blaster bolt struck Plagueis, and N'Dul's spirit stood from his body, edging toward one of the combatants. A young woman Kodo didn't know. In that moment, however, she was a surrogate. In her, Kodo saw only his savior. The woman who had saved him from Kylo Ren, who had brought him to Dagobah... Who had fallen to N'Dul.

    Kodo forgot Kyle. He forgot Plagueis. He forgot Kylo Ren. He saw only N'Dul, the kind woman he had killed on Dagobah, and the woman he now sought to hollow out and take the place of.

    He launched forward, his fingers finding strength - and his lightsaber within his grip. The snap-hiss of his sapphire blade was as out of focus as the sights, pondering and muffled like a sound in water.

    He descended on N'Dul as wrath incarnate, hacking, slashing, swinging wildly again and again, crying bitter tears with every thrash. He lost sight and sound and thought - all that remained was the force of his blows landing, the shudder of each strike shooting up his arm and into his shoulder which had begun to burn with fatigue.

    At last he relented, and fell to the ground.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, Kahn_Iceay, Ktala[/b][/b]
     
  6. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    IC: Rhoen Aquilla
    Yavin

    Rhoen's heart pounded in his ears, all he could hear was his breathing and the constant staccato beat of his lasers tearing into transport after transport. There were still so many too many, for him to handle. He couldn't see what Corona Squadron was doing, getting too wrapped up in his own personal vendetta against the First Order. Another transport detonated, killing yet more stormtroopers. He didn't know when he'd passed though the atmosphere, just that he had in his pursuit of his quarry. He kept to the strategy he'd laid out hunting down stragglers with almost merciless determination.

    He'd set his eyes on another target when a wave of something ripped through the temple the one acting as the focus for the purple beam being cast into the sky. A dreadful shearing sound tore through his mind. Following it up like the wails of a pained animal his X-wing began blaring alarms and warnings, 'Ace's own screeches added to the cacophony in Rhoen's cockpit.

    He thought he'd be calmer, be serene when everything started to go wrong. What a fool he was for thinking that. His heart rate spiked, and his breathing turned panicked as the ground of Yavin came closer and closer.

    "Corona Squadron, I've been hit, I've been hit." There was no response, "Can anyone hear me," only static replied to him, "Please, Lysa," For just a moment he felt all alone, a cold wave rushing over him, turning his stomach. "Mom," he felt tears on the edge of his eyes. His arms were locked his brain trying to find a hundred different solutions all at once. Time slowed, as it always seemed to when one faced their own death. Rhoen wasn't ready to die, not here, not now but, the fear of it had gripped him so thoroughly, he couldn't move. All he could do was watch as the ground came closer and closer.

    "Rhoen," A voice passed through his mind. If the young captain was thinking rationally he'd know it wasn't actually his mother's voice, just a collection of neurons firing in response to extreme stress. A simulacrum of the woman that made him want to be a pilot. Right now, Rhoen was anything but rational, he was panicked and latching on to anything that brought him calm. He felt a warmth at his back, flooding over him. It was as though he was a young child again, sitting in her lap. Her gentle hands covered his as they wrapped around the flight sick and throttle. "You can do this," her voice soft and caring just like he always remembered. "Now just like I showed you." With his mother's almost ethereal guidance the young man cut his speed and pulled back on the stick. Once his nose was pointed above the horizon he punched the throttle slamming his back into the flight chair, and forcing the blood from his brain again.

    He pulled out of his climb breathing heavy, hissing though his teeth as he inhaled. An odd laugh passed between his lips. He'd survived, and the rush of his ordeal caused him to laugh, or maybe it was the absurdity of it all. A temple blown to pieces by an unseen force, a wave of darkness that emanated from it, and finally the spectral image of his mother guiding him out of his own death. A few more nervous chuckles left his chest before he began to focus on what was important, Lysa.

    "Lysa, where are you?" he asked into the still broken comms, moving his head around to get a better look. Glancing at his sensors he found her, moving among the chaos that now reigned. He sifted his fighter, bucking him the whole way, he could feel that he wasn't as maneuverable as it was before, losing an S-foil had that effect, but, he could still fly and that's the important thing. He got alongside her waggling his wings a bit to get her attention. Afterwards he found the location of the Falcon, the second most important craft to him right now. He waved his hand in a motion he hoped Lysa would interpret as a 'Follow Me' added a bit of a head nod as he moved towards the aged freighter.

    Something had changed, and not for the better, the Falcon was their best hope for recovering Captain Genkal, maybe whatever happened finally gave them a bead on his location, or maybe gave the Resistance an opening to recover him. Either way, the battle had descended into madness, the only thing he could do was protect General Organa-Solo, if they lost her, the war was lost. He hoped the other pilots would see him and join up, forming a sort of honor guard for her as she made her way to recover an important leader, or get out of this mess as quickly as possible.

    It didn't matter to him, he just had a feeling that time was running short.

    TAG: HanSolo29 Tim Battershell Mitth_Fisto Sinrebirth
     
  7. Kahn_Iceay

    Kahn_Iceay Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2006
    Combo post #1 with Sinre


    Vincent Mikaru
    Invective, Bridge
    En Route to Yavin

    "Admiral, shut up." Vincent stood up, the wave of, whatever it had been had passed those in the bridge over, likely thanks to the Ysalmir. "Something has happened, and I don't think that your self invested plans and plots are going to save anyone..." The Echani's mind was moving at a parsec a minute, trying to think of what to do. Pulling his comm link from his belt he held it up, "Medical team to the Primary hangar, allow only medical droids immediate contact for the moment." Something felt wrong, he didn't know what but it was eating at him. "I need a security team to the bridge, bring a personal shield generator." He looked at the Ysalamir, "That thing may have just become the only thing that has kept us safe, I intend to protect it."

    The two men glanced to each other while Niathal glared icily at Vincent. She went to speak, and the Kiffar raised a hand, making a pinching motion with his fingers. Niathal's lips smacked shut not at the mental manipulation of her mouth, but in shock at the further affront. The second man spoke up. 'The bubble did not entirely shield us; we sensed something. It must have happened on multiple wavelengths.'

    The Kiffar scowled. 'Like the Vong?'

    'I doubt it's the Vong. This reminded me...' A pause. 'It em reminded me of the Emperor.'

    Cha Niathal's eyes widened. 'What in the wave are you talking about? Speak plainly.'

    Another ripple in the Force, impossibly, within the bubble. A security crew spoke up over a comlink. 'Sir, Master Katarn and his Padawan are unconscious - Master Katarn's partner is experiencing some kind of delirium, and...' There was a dark chuckle, not entirely hinged. 'I think we're feeling it too.'

    Vincent turned to the Admiral, "Something, of unimaginable power, is... I don't know... This is beyond me, it's beyond all of us." He motioned around him, "This little null-force bubble, that you so gleefully wandered me into should completely distort the Force. Nothing should be able to touch the force inside, or be felt from the outside. But we are still feeling it." Vincent turned back towards the forward view port. "Medical teams, sedate their companion and move as far away as you can and safely observe, leave the physical work to the droids." Vincent clenched his fists, his mind and eyes darting from console to console as he tried to calculate a plan. "Callista, give me an ETA to Yavin, and issue an evacuation order of the port and starboard Vigils."

    Niathal blinked her massive eyes. 'Evacuate? Whyever would you do that?'

    'We are 23 minutes away.' Callista spoke up. 'Do you want me to supervise Kodo and Katarn?'

    The line turned to the sound of scuffles as Jan refused to abandon Kyle; there was a definite sound of a broken bone following an impact. Angry voices abounded, and droid ones for calm.

    "Because We may need them for something unsavory." He then nodded to Callista. "Sedate Jan, use a stun blaster if you have to. Then get into your armor. If plans A and B fail, well. You are a bodyguard." He turned back to the Admiral and the others. "I don't know a great deal about Sith rituals, but my family has records. Long ago, an ancestor participated in a battle on Yavin. Her journals spoke of an Ancient temple, a massive Sith artifact that could steal the life force of all the people on the planet, and imbue it into the person using it. Obviously if such a thing existed, then whatever is going on on Yavin is of equal power, if not the same function. If necessary... I will order the total destruction of the area around where we are sensing these disturbances. By way of a Hypermatter detonation."

    Niathal's eyes bulged, and the group tensed. 'Firedancer, you were supposed to be 'destined' to deal with this.'

    'Firedancer?' The Kiffar frowned. 'Destiny?'

    A voice rung out. 'You can't destroy Kodo.'

    A hologram emerged in the centre of the bridge. It was a cloaked man. Callista would recognise his build. He was the man who had assaulted her and Treen. From beneath his hood the man spoke further. 'Kodo has a connection to the Dark Lord of the Sith, and to the Supreme Leader. If you step out of the bubble, Mikaru, you will sense the truth.'

    'If you destroy Kodo we lose the possibility of tracking Snoke.'

    The man did not address that he had clearly accessed the ships internal network. Callista was already looking to access the system and find the intruder.

    "I have no intention of destroying Kodo." The Echani replied, "Nor do I care about your truth. And yet..." Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, He needed to let Callista know, everything he planned. He felt the data connection, between her and his implant. "Callista, do what you need to, if I can't... keep the link." He looked back at the two others, "If I fall, pull me back into the bubble." Then, knowing he was likely to regret it, he stepped out of the intense center of the void in the Force.

    It hit him like a wave. A miasma, a pressure, a hand smeared into his face. Hello, Vincent.

    It was the voice from the Holocron. You doubted me. You considered me a fraud. How very dare you.

    Come to my shadow world.

    Black consumed Vincent Mikaru, and Callista went to step out. Her swift momentum was turned against her as she was sent a different direction from her intended goal, and from a shadow at the edge of the bridge the cloaked man stepped out. 'Wait! He needs to do this! I can sense it! There's a nexus, in the past, in the future... In the awakening. He needs to see this.'

    Callista's eyes burned with intensity. 'I will kill you if he dies.'

    'If he dies we might be in so much trouble that I'll let you kill me rather than force me see what happens next.'

    Crew members levelled blasters at the cloaked man, but he simply watched Vincent. In his hand was his lightsaber hilt, but he had no interest in fighting. He could tell that there was too much going on for him to not pick a side and intervene.

    And then Vincent Mikaru joined Kodo and Kyle in the shadowlands... As Kodo leapt forward and began to stab to death Azgath N'Dul. Kyle could not believe his eyes. Vague versions of others that Vincent would not recognise save for Snoke abounded, fighting - perhaps he would Ulic Qel-Droma and of course Kyp Durron - and as he arrived the shadow attached to Snoke seemed to grow, it's own visage apparent, the soul treating the body as a marionette, a dark gash of a grin on the shadow of Snoke, a gesture of a hand sending Kyle flying backwards; his body in reality flung itself up, as Kodo's body stood and stabbed at the ground in reality also, glassy eyes looking through its surroundings. Around them crew members caught in the thrall of madness fought and bickered and injured each other, and the effect was spreading to other parts of the ship; a palpable madness being fuelled the security team that Vincent had sent.

    Snoke spoke up. 'The boy - my apprentice - is simply taking out some loose ends for me. It is only a spiritual murder, my friend.'

    With a negligent gesture Vincent would feel as if his spirit body was surrounded by mud, slowed and heavy. 'What does a Firedancer do with no fire?'

    Vincent attempted to struggle against the weight on him, to no avail. The Force swirled, the world spun, and everything was far too much. I can't. Vincent coughed, feeling as though he was being pulled under, and then suddenly, the world changed again. The weight was still there, he could still feel, hear, smell everything but he saw an open white room.

    "You can." The voice was unknown to him, but it came from a form standing not far away. Clad in golden armor, a lightsaber held out in hand, a grip that reminded him of a Dancer's foil. "You can, because it is in your blood." The figure turned, she was tall, and slender, not too unlike an Echani in build, if not for her pale skin, bald head, and adorning tattoos. "I thought I couldn't once." She held up her hand, looking at her saber. "I was nothing too, less than nothing. All anger, and spite. I too was beaten down, dragged through the mud, all by beings who thought they were more powerful, thought they had the right to put the Galaxy under their foot." She smiled, an almost pained smile. "One was not to dissimilar from the unfortunate recipient of your friends rage."

    "But I learned, that I was much, much more than I was made out to be. I rose up, I took my destiny as my own." She walked over to Vincent, took his right hand, and placed her lightsaber in it. "In my blood, courses the fire and fury of ancient warriors, and Sith, and Jedi. The light and the Dark and all the destinies there in. And I made it my own." She placed her now free hand on his cheek. "Young Mikaru. Heir to Artis and Selina. Heir to Muri and his lost cause. Heir to Morganus, Gaius, and Tranquilia, but for the moment most importantly. Heir to me. That blood now courses through you... use it."

    -- -- --

    Back int he Shadow world just as Vincent fell beneath the surface of the mud and the muck a piercing light erupted outward washing over the shadow of Snoke and the combatants. As it faded, a figure lowered down to the surface, shadows creeping away, revealing Vincent, clad now in his chosen armor, cape billowing in a non-existant wind. "What does a Firedancer do with no fire?" He repeated, opening his eyes as the lightsaber in his hand sprang to life, a light blue blade with a dark cobalt core. Lightning arched from the tip of the blade down to the hilt, and crackled out across his armor. "I am the fire."

    Tag: Sinrebirth Darth_wanderguard, & all others involved in this little Shadow World.
     
    Darth Sophis likes this.
  8. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    Susulur Dha'tra
    Yavin IV, Feeling gravity

    Life was a maelstrom, and it apparently didn't like authoritarian statements. At least that was Susulur's first thought as he went from coding a quarantine zone and lining up on the closest target stitching with his ships lasers when he was suddenly buffeted from behind. Where his scopes had shown all clear. It was the only direction that made sense given how his ship was tumbling. Only it didn't make sense. . .unless.

    The pain. The sick feeling that had come and lingered. It had not been his prosthesis needing the alignments calibrated. Still that was a moot point. His ship which should of been easy to calibrate back from the tailspin was suddenly heading towards the closest rock at rates that gave him immediate dread. Even as the ships computer and his own HUD displayed the unauthorized tow cable, a stormtrooper had to go thud on his ships canopy. "No hitchhikers and history reruns. Not today." he simply muttered into the still open comm channel.

    Facts were clear, although trying that tactic on someone who routinely visited the grave-yards every five-years. Well it was foolish. One eye blink activated the basic protocols and a twitch to nerves connected to his false eye triggered another. His ion cannon retracted as the energy was redirected to the ships hull and shields. The eletrified hull should be enough to fry the trooper in his shell, flexible gloves were terrible things in cheep armor. Little more than a guard against vacuum, thermal discharges and low grade volts. Unfortunately nothing about his ships anti-theft electric charges were low.

    The shields were a weak attempt at weakening the cable. Didn't expect it to work really. Still the pull down of the by now ID'd transport made him grin tightly. The towing motion in a straight line down toward the planet had arrested his tailspin, which made this next maneuver much easier. Although the quickly approaching ground made it more difficult. He turned into it. Nose down he spun as though to pass through the enemy vessel. Letting loose with his ships medium laser cannon, and a concussion missile. Hence the bolstered shields. If one didn't do the job a second would soon follow.

    Once free of the transport and tow cable he would point his nose above the horizon and engage his ships SLAM. Having even stubby wings in an atmosphere with sufficient thrust should be enough to get him back on point. Still he didn't relish the thought of what he was about to experience, something which amounted to more pain and far too much cost for a possible suicide mission.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, potentially others in this cluster battle.

     
  9. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: ‘Han Solo’ (Duke Praxon)
    Aboard the Millennium Falcon, Yavin

    A pair of TIEs exploded in a fiery blossom, briefly illuminating the cockpit in a warm glow of light before quickly fading into oblivion. The exuberant call from the gunwells confirmed his suspicions – despite her copious career in politics, Leia had not allowed her combat experience to wane, having successfully made the shot as if it was all second nature to her. In a sense, it probably was. Of course, she also had some help from his own maneuvering skills alongside the transport, but in this instance, he was willing to give her credit.

    “Traitor,” he called back in response to her teasing remark, a smile clearly evident on his face despite the coldness of that single word. “And here I thought we had some kind of—ugh!”

    His words were effectively silenced as the Falcon buffeted violently, the sudden motion flinging him forward into his crash webbing with enough force for the restraint to cut uncomfortably into his shoulder. He winced and held out a hand to steady himself. No doubt that was going to leave a mark. To add to his irritation, the proximity alarms around the cockpit were also blaring incessantly for his attention.

    What the hell was going on?

    With his brow furrowed in concern, ‘Han’ quickly recovered and got to work looking over the scopes to identify the problem, but as fate would have it, he didn’t need to look far beyond the scene that was unfolding before him outside the viewport. The temple, which had previously stood like a pinnacle among the thick overgrowth of jungle, had suddenly ruptured, leaving behind a large crater in its wake. The result of such an explosion was a debris field consisting of stone and rock fragments that was currently playing havoc on all ships in the immediate area. Well, that would certainly explain the proximity alarms…

    “Uh, I think we have a bit of a problem,” he announced just as another wave overtook the Falcon, sending her into another violent spiral. The control yoke shook in his grip as he wrestled to regain control, his teeth clenched together with determination. The sudden rush also brought on a wave of a nausea, – at least, he assumed that was the cause – which had him second guessing his decision to initially dial down the inertial compensator. Was he getting too old to ‘stomach’ a few extra g-forces? He swallowed hard and pushed that thought from his head.

    In the midst of his struggles, Wyn had managed to call up a few readouts and other diagnostics regarding the current situation and what they were ultimately up against. The information ‘pinged’ on the console in front of him, but he didn’t particularly have the time or the patience to give it a thorough examination. He only glanced at it briefly, gathering what information he needed and concluding that it was bad enough to warrant a curse, which he uttered without any regard to decency.

    He felt Wyn’s gaze upon him, knowing that she probably had a few choice words to add of her own, but fortunately, he never had the opportunity to witness that colorful display. Instead, the small beacon now flashing on the dash in front of her garnered her full attention.

    “Bre's found him, General,” she announced triumphantly.

    ‘Han’s brow shot up in mild surprise at the news. Part of him never truly believed that the young woman would be able to pull it off, and yet, here they were. “It’s about time,” he muttered as he toggled a pair of switches, trying to sound impartial, but secretly elated that they would soon be far away from here. He only wished it could have come sooner.

    “Corona Lead, cover us,” Leia sent over the comm frequency, despite the static that was quite apparent and stubbornly consistent. “We need to extract them; whatever it is down there, it's out.”

    “I don’t think he can hear you, sweetheart,” he observed with a frown, following the distant shapes of the X-wings as they labored towards the surface. It was obvious from their fluctuating flight patterns that they were dealing with damage of their own. “We’re on our own for this one.”

    For some reason, those words brought a sinking feeling to his stomach, mixing with the nausea that was already present, and making him feel even worse. He feared if he dwelled on it for much longer, what little food he had consumed over the past day would end up decorating the interior of the cockpit in a myriad of exotic smells and colors; not an ideal condition for anyone involved.

    Instead, he cleared his mind through a series of deep breaths and focused fully on his flying, concentration now lining his features as he hit the accelerator. Beyond the viewport, the temple – or what was left of it – loomed ever closer as they steadily approached the surface.

    “Get ready to take over,” he said quietly to Wyn, refusing to look her in the eye. “She doesn’t know it yet, but I ain’t allowing the General to leave this ship.” There was a moment of hesitation as he sucked in a breath. “And, well, someone’s gotta go out there to bring our people home. Hopefully we can do it on the run and I won’t have to leave the ramp. If not…”

    He shrugged nonchalantly and trailed off, knowing she wouldn’t like the rest.

    TAG: Sinrebirth; galactic-vagabond422; Mitth_Fisto; Tim Battershell
     
  10. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Belila Gambros (Bre)
    What's left of Yavin Temple


    Bloodle Boop Beep! WOOT!!!!!

    Fred was buried, watching as all of the upper part of the temple suddenly exploding from within. He was shielded from the falling debris by the trees near him, as was the bike, as he shook, fearing for Bre's safety. But he was quickly able to find her life sign signal. He also had noted when the being identified as Fett, and another hunter he didnt know were forcibly flung from the now pit area of the temple. Fred slowly extended a camera, and began to transmit a scrambled transmission to BB-8, back towards the Falcon. They had shared quite a bit, and exchanged transmission codes, so they could talk to one another. Fred knew they had to see what was going on. And as long as Bre was there, he would transmit as best he could. But he had a feeling she wasnt going to stick around for too long.

    'Dont get close!'

    Was the scrambled warning. The pictures should tell the rest of the story.



    ----


    Bre was dumbstruck.

    And she had found herself smack dab in the middle of a power-struggle she didnt understand, or the coping skills. She had been living alone for so long, simply trying to survive. And suddenly she found herself in the middle of THIS!

    Something or someone had ran past everyone involved. She never saw the person. Then the Force seemed to well up, as a sudden build up of power came into being. What Bre DID see was another, darkly dressed being stepped into the room, throwing their hands up into the air. The force sang its warning, as suddenly the upper parts of the temple, literally exploded away from her. The Force literally screamed at her, as did the darkside, as it was suddenly, violently released from its confines. The very air around them stank of death and decay, and Bre ducked as debris was suddenly blown out into the sky with a furious howl, leaving them exposed to the now open sky. That was nothing compared to the shock-wave that was generated within the Force.

    The act of hurling the Temple apart caused the hood to fall back, exposing the face of the new person.. An unnatural sheen to his face, the grey-white pallor, skin drawn close to his face, the jaw almost hanging loosely from his skull, the historic wound running up between his black, beaded eyes. 'Oh poodooo....' was Bre's thought.

    Was that... was that the guy, Snoke of the First Order?

    As if to answer her, he drew back his cloak, and a fork of orange lightning burst free, a blaze of energy which slammed into a unknown person's body, a powerful root taking form and sending the corpse hurtling towards the remnant wall. Frantically, Bre began to search for Genkal, hoping that he was still alive, after that display of Darkside energies. Fett recovered quickest and immediately and opened fire with his entire arsenal at Snoke, while his partner ran in, with his beskad swinging. Snoke simply flung them both aside, out of the pit, and turned on the still smoking corpse of the first being he struck with lighting. There was a glowing pebble beneath Snoke's foot. But Bre also noticed that Genkal was slowly coming to as well. She saw him look towards her, and she slowly nodded, even as the mad man in the center now spoke.

    "How quaint. An Imperial Prefect. The perfect cover for a Sith. You would have made an impressive Baneite. But you would never have accepted being the apprentice, and I could never again be it. Not after Tenebrous. Nor after Sidious."

    Bre had no idea what the man was talking about, and didnt care. Again, as if he had read her mind, he spoke once more.

    "Oh my, am I rambling, like an overly confident villain? My late Holocron has drawn my new apprentice to me, years in the making, my candidate is collecting the last legacy of Valkorian, my Empire is poised to seize the Galaxy. All is ready." He paused. "I am a foot away from victory." He leaned down his boot on the gemstone. Bre could hear it crack. But she no longer cared. She needed to get away from this place, with Genkal and Strang. She saw Starang make a move, and Snoke spoke once more.

    "Know that you have been killed by Darth Plagueis the Wise." If Bre wasnt so busy, simply trying to stay alive, she would have taken the time to gasp at that statement. She had heard the stories. He continued to speak. "Know that your death signifies the end." What the flark was he talking about? Then gem was broken, crushed underneath his foot. The Force suddenly sung out with the death of a powerful Force user, causing Bre to stagger back. A billowing of blue energy surrounded the area which had been the Temple. Strang lifted his weapon and Snoke - Plagueis - simply removed his head from his body with a gesture of his skeletal hand, while Genkal shot him in the back. Bre cried out "No!", even as Snoke cried out as well. Ulic Qel-Droma, who had been silent for so long, ignited his blade and launched forward.

    Another voice shouted out. 'Now, Bre!' Bre's head whiped around. The voice sounded familiar. Kyp had arrived, purple blade ignited. Her heart lept at seeing a Jedi, about to fully engage with this Snoke being. Bre's mind then into a panic state. Now? Now what?!?! She knew she could no longer do anything for Strang, so she focused on the wonderful break that Genkal had given them. But even as she began to move, Snoke gestured as he stumbled, drawing a saber to hand, red blade flaring to life. But that is not what had Bre's attention. It was the fact that from his free hand a venerable storm of lightning burst out towards Bre.

    Bre snapped. And thats when things began to change.

    With a howl, Bre charged towards Snoke and Genkal, the lightning bearing down on her. At the last minute, she brought her lightsaber into being, its green blade springing to life with a familiar hiss as she swung and angling the blade, sought to bounce back the lighting towards its bearer. It HURT, even as she was evading most of the damage. She used that to clear her mind, as she moved. She gritted her teeth till they hurt, moving ahead with her plan. She continued forward, now fully using the Force to move her much more faster now, this time, she was preparing to set of her rockets, when suddenly the snap-hiss of another saber sprang into being, from out of nowhere. A stranger, a man, launched forward, a sapphire blade lightsaber in hand. Where were they coming from?!! He attacked another being that had somehow managed to get close, like he was wrath incarnate, hacking, slashing, swinging wildly again and again, crying bitter tears with every thrash.

    FORCE SAVE US!!!! Bre thought to herself!

    The emotions that were stirring within the pit were almost too much, but Bre had a job to do. IF she could not find the light, then she would make her own. With a wild vearing turn, she moved towards Genkal, at a full force sprint. If felt so good to be able to use the Force once more, even if it meant that she would die. But to die, with a lightsaber in hand, fighting for something you believed in, was better than dying alone in some alley, with none to know you. She drew the Force to her, for even in this dark world, it still sang. And as she moved, she did something that no one expected.

    She changed. Bre grew a few feet taller, as her limbs and legs stretched. She just hoped Genkal would not over-react. Hair now covered her body, as she reached Genkal. She now appeared as a Wookiee, and with a general motion she swept up Genkal in one arm, and continued to Force run, never stopping, for she knew that Snoke would kill them both. She ignored the pain she felt, the raw emotions she had stayed away from for so long, focusing only on her objective. She called upon the Force, to assist her now Wookie legs and arms, and bounded upwards, in a Force induced leap, to attempt to clear the 'pit'. If she could not, she would toss Genkal the rest of the way via a force push, while using her lightsaber blade to provide him cover.

    "RUN. Droid up top. Not let General land. GO!"

    Whatever happened next, she would do her best to make sure Genkal got away.




    TAG: Sinrebirth, HanSolo29, Tim Battershell, @Mitth-Fisto, Lady Belligerent, Darth_wanderguard, Kahn_Iceay, galactic-vagabond422, ALL YOU GUYS!!
     
  11. Lady_Belligerent

    Lady_Belligerent Queen of the RPF, SWC, C&P, and Pancakes & Waffles star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    Combo with Sinrebirth

    IC: Jaina Solo
    Ravager

    So far, Jaina hadn't seen, or felt a soul onboard the ship. Some corridors were open and ghostly empty, others sealed off and she didn't attempt to force entry. It was automatic to give security cameras a small wave as she continued exploring, just in case anyone was monitoring she didn't want to call attention to herself.

    She had just entered a large common area when a voice echoed in her mind...

    That was Ben's voice.

    Supreme Leader, what do you mean?

    No reply.

    Again, the deeper voice. There is another. The exact same tone. A recording? An echo?


    'Ben is here? And who else?' She thought and quickly scanned the data Cappie supplied. She needed to find the weapons system to try and disable it, and quickly. She'd been feeling her mother was in danger, could this ship be some how involved? So many pieces of a big puzzle and it didn't feel like she was any closer to solving it.

    'What is this? A latent connection between here and there?' The masculine voice was inside Jaina's head so much as outside it. It promptly emerged beside her, detaching from her skin, almost, a copy of her which promptly evolved; a tall man in golden armour, eyes aglow, holding himself heavily. 'Your love for your mother will prove you undoing.'

    A lightsaber ignited in his hand. 'Let us see if the skills I have acquired can be put to use. The Force has awakened, and I have every intention of taking advantage. No true Sith would not push every envelope that they can.'

    'And I, Darth Dreadwar, am just that. Surrender, so that I might live.'


    Was he a phantom? Jaina's violet blade glowed from the moment she'd heard his voice in the room, she stepped back and raised the blade. Her eyes were narrowed as she addressed the over dressed stranger, "I've never heard of a Darth Dreadwar, and I do NOT surrender."

    She leapt forward with a powerful kick, her boot aimed straight for his groin and her violet blade flashing towards his neck.

    Dreadwar blinked in surprise at such an aggressive approach by a Jedi, but snapped his blade up to block as he pivoted his body away from the kick, a lightning fast reaction to his imminent death, he released a hand from his weapon to fire off a burst of lightning and then to whirl away, extending his phantom so that the cloak seemed to stretch around him like a web, and as he turned back to face her he gestured with his hand and the cloak split into a dozen grasping strands.

    She was fueled by the awareness that her mother was in grave danger, add that to her growing more impatience with Ben's actions, and then there was that odd conversation with Jacen. Funneling all her frustration she unleashed on this puffed up Sith who had appeared from thin air.

    Her lightsaber neatly deflected the lightning, and aimed it back to her enemy. She raised her hand and waved aside the strands with a powerful burst of energy.

    The burst came back and Dreadwar drew his blade up to catch the scattered lightning as Jaina unleashed her battering ram of energy. Fear gripped Dreadwar, but he had no choice. He gathered himself and launched forward, blade stabbing low but the moment he closed any distance, he planted his feet and drew back to slash up.

    Jaina's anger fueled strength allowed her to deflect her blade, and she realized her toes were firmly on that thin line between dark and light. It was her usual place, not gray, and not quite dark. But, she was a full on emotional storm currently, and the galaxy seemed to be going crazy around her.

    Her eyes narrowed and she unleashed a vicious flurry of attacks on Dreadwar, she stepped inward continuously pressing her attack.

    Dreadwar's panic grew, but it seemed to be making her stronger, no, it wasn't that, it was a razor like focus, and Dreadwar knew he was going to lose this. He needed to reach out elsewhere, he thought, as he desperately parried, stepping back and back and back.

    Azgath's body was rotten, and, now, his soul was dead, stabbed and stabbed and stabbed. Dreadwar was barely able to manage the pain. Kodo and Jaina he clearly undone him, a team that he could not have foreseen coming together.

    Dreadwar's knee buckled with a burn to the thigh, and he knew he could not disarm her, reasoning that a physical disarmament would unhinge her mentally, and Dreadwar simply wrapped up his mind in the Force and readied himself to burst into her mind.

    He had nothing left.

    His Mobus body had been lost, cut-off, his Tholme body, was crisped, his N'Dul body, ruined.

    This was all he had.

    It he could find a crack...

    'It is a shame that your mother is about to die at Snoke's hand, little Jedi. It is shame that killing me will not save her.'

    "No! I'd know if she was in danger," she lied, not giving him the advantage of her reacting to the truth. "I guess you're Snoke's minion? Did you lead me here?"

    She was augmenting her already considerable physical strength as she pressed harder with her strikes.

    Dreadwar attempted a lock, and succeeded, tying her into a match of strength. But for a phantom strength was an illusion; he could and would exceed hers if he broke her will. 'I am nobodies minion, I am the reason your mother is in peril. I can the bait which she followed and now Snoke is ready to kill her. And, from one Sith to another, I can tell you that Snoke crushed me - and you have no hope of saving her, your father or your brothers.'

    Darth Dreadwar allowed his smile to grow carnivorous. If only he had known the truth about Han Solo. If he had, then it would have been the perfect wedge to drive into her defences.

    And he would have had her.

    "Sith? I'm no Sith, you sleemo," she spat through her clenched teeth.

    She felt him trying to invade her mind, her mental shield slammed shut and rounded on him with a kick aimed at his chest. "I'll not surrender to you, back off!"

    Once, many years ago, Jaina and her siblings had read about a Force technique called 'The Shatterpoint'. She'd played about with it, but had never used it in combat. Squinting her eyes, she imagined Dreadwar's armor - the elements in it and seeing them in the Force. With her free hand she firmly pressed the center of his chest, not ceasing to parry and block his lightsaber.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
    HanSolo29 and Ktala like this.
  12. Kahn_Iceay

    Kahn_Iceay Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2006
    JP #2 with Sinre

    Argen Devalie
    Engaging in the ancient art of ‘getting the hell out of here’

    "My Hyperdrive is quite robust as is I assure you." Argen's voice replied, he was eyeing his ships position in relation to the gravity well. "And we don't exactly have the time to do as you suggest. So I might suggest holding on to something because this is going to be very very bumpy." Argen began flipping witches, bringing the ships primary power back online, he kept the ECM field up, hoping that it might at least throw off the Imperials a bit longer as he spooled up the sublight engines and started pushing the ship away from the gravity well.

    'Oh my. Am I not to be, well, given somewhere to berth?' The Muun sounded perplexed. 'I have funds, I can offer my star courier as collateral if you like, save for the cloaking device.'

    The ship was already wavering, looking to push forward and obtain speed. The Imperial Fleet did not appear to have noticed, and a build-up of energy within the fleet suggested their jump, too, was imminent.

    The droids magnetized themselves and gave a ten second countdown to Argen.

    "You'll get a place to berth when I'm positive that we're not going to be atomized." There was a series of lights above the hypernav console that slowly shifted from red to green as they existed the gravity well. "Prepare for lightspeed jump." When the countdown hit zero the Zabrak pushed the controls forward and space swirled, stars elongated and suddenly the ship was engulfed in the swirling vortex of Hyperspace. Nothing immediately red lined, a few power readouts shifted into the yellow but nothing beyond capacity. Letting out a breath Argen stood up, "Alright... going to go visit our guest... just be prepared to flood the ship with knock out gas or something."

    A few minutes later the door to the Cargo Hold opened up and Argen stepped in, hands behind his back. "Welcome aboard the Rosa." He offered, kind as possible. "Your arrival is a bit unorthodox and under a tad of Duress so I apologize for any, rudeness. My name is Argen Devalie, CEO of the Devalie Transport Company. Normally this is where I'd start to discuss compensation, but first, we should discuss why you're here, since we both seem to want to outrun the Empire to their end goal."

    Damask rushed back to his courier as they jumped, but still tripped once he made it up the ramp. By the time Argen made it to the cargo hold, Damask was pressing a cloth to a wound on his forehead. His tone was even. 'I thank you for the welcome, and acknowledge the rudeness.' By the end of the sentence his comment was more tart than anything else, but he pressed on. 'I'm following a connection from the past. And the Empire seems to dislike that past. I had been managing the Estate of Hego Damask, who died a decade before the Clone Wars, and I noticed that it had started to be drawn upon, using backdoors into the system installed more than two centuries ago. Incredibly powerful encryption - for then. For now, less so. I've been following the money, so to speak.'

    The Muun paused. 'It's how I found this rather unique ship. It's called the Scimitar. It had been placed in a storehouse on Roon, of all things.'

    Argen nodded, half listening to the Muun, half observing the ship. Star Courier's were rare, they'd stopped producing them long before Argen had been able to even think about getting a ship, not that he could have afforded one. But the name of the location he'd found it caught his location, "Roon? I've heard of the planet, hauled Roonstones once or twice a few years back. Place is supposed to be pretty hard to get to." The man had offered the ship, sans cloak, as compensation, at this point Argen was tempted to take it. "Alright so, you've been following what is clearly an illicit money scheme. What's that got to do with the Imperials, First Order, and us getting the message out ahead of them?"

    Damask shrugs. 'When I arrived at the storehouse - which was abandoned, incidentally - it broadcast a signal when I tripped a security flag. An Imperial Star Destroyer - one of the old ones - picked it up and were on their way. I've been on the run since and I'm trying to turn over the data to the Resistance as I suspect it will flow into the Unknown Regions. It's been a perplexing fortnight.'

    "Well, I'm trying to get some information to the Resistance as well." Argen unfolded his arms, and looked down at his wrist computer, a hologram appearing showing the hyperdrive readout. "Things appear to be going smoothly as is. It shouldn't take us too long to catch up to the Resistance fleet I've been tracking." Argen looked up at the Star Courier, "Is this thing armed? Where we're going we're probably not going to be sitting comfortable for very long, we'll certainly have to defend ourselves."

    'Heavily, for its size,' Damask produced a datapad. 'I have been getting questions like that since I took it on, and I have even very diligent in telling customs since I picked it up two weeks ago.'

    Damask seemed genuinely pleaded with how good a citizen he was being.

    "Yes, due diligence on your part I'm sure." Argen tapped a few commands on his wristcom, ordering Veedo to come do a complete diagnostic sweep of the courier, checking for any unsavory surprises, and then getting it ready to fly again. "I'll have one of my droids come look the ship over, see if they can get it back up and in ship shape. Why don't we retreat to the lounge? We're currently doing point six lightspeed, not the ships max but also safer than red lining her. We'll beat the Imperials, but we should go over what we have, and be prepared to send it as a burst transmission, just in case."

    'Sounds an excellent idea, Captain. I will have my butler droid bring my bag.' He gestured, and a golden protocol droid came down the steps. 'C-3PY, if you would?' The golden droid padded down the ramp, carrying a briefcase and a hold-all. It grunted at Argen.

    'He's not very talkative but he has proven very helpful.'

    "A protocol droids that isn't talkative. I've seen everything." Argen motioned for the Muun to follow him, and began leading him into the ship. "The Rosa may not appear like much but we've many creature comforts. The lounge is fully stocked and you'll find... well sorry normally I go over this for people who will be staying for a few days, what exactly do you plan to do once we're through all this?"

    Damask shrugged. 'I literally do not know. I can pay my way, for a fairly long time. I am well paid, after all. I can even help with your books, if that is needed. Nor am I a particularly bad medic.'

    A smile touched his noseless face.

    "Well I don't really earn enough in this business to need an accountant. Not anymore anyway. A decade or so ago when I had a few more ships in the company then sure, but I downsized after my services became less necessary. Not that that's a bad thing." He opened a door, and motioned for the Muun and his droid to enter, inside was a rather comfortable looking lounge, complete with a holonet screen, and a small kitchen. "Holonet's been down for some time, so sorry you'll have to deal with my re-runs of The Guns of Kelrodo-Ai, yeah I know it was Imperial Propaganda but it was so well acted." Taking a seat he motioned for Damask to join him. "Now you'll excuse the ship jockey in me, but you said something about offering that Courier, sans it's cloak. The Courier is... a tempting offer I must admit."

    Damask smiled again. 'I wouldn't expect to have to pay anything for some time, if you took it. I may not be a pilot but I know a one-of-a-kind when I see one.'

    "Well the ship class itself is rare. Stopped making them before I was old enough to fly. Well, fly legally anyway." He leaned back into his seat and settled in, "But true, if you offered me that ship I'd be inclined to take you pretty much anywhere for quite some time. Of course that's considering if we get out of this next bit alive."

    Damask waved a willowy hand. 'I have every faith in you, Captain. Your ability to recognise such an esoteric design speaks well of your broader knowledge, and the fact that you have ran a company and now are positioned to expand is very promising. You know how business works and you can speak my language.' Damask seemed very pleased. He presented a pad with the codes. 'For you.' Another included data on the banking system that was being drawn from.

    'It is largely from that of Hego Damask, a great-uncle of mine, I think. But his affairs were very shadowy and I could not begin to understand them. I am aware that Roon has a connection to an ancient cult called the 'Sith', but that is just geography and I cannot believe that there is a connection to this matter. Otherwise it's just very old accounts, and I cannot see why the Empire would care, but the same Star Destroyer kept tracking me. Victory-class, too, C-3PY confirmed. I think he told me the name but I forget now. At the time it seemed a little irrelevant to surviving!'

    Taking the pad with the codes he casually tapped it against his wristcom, activating a data transfer of the codes. "Well, I had to go from a scruffy swoop bike enthusiast to a fledgling businessman really quickly." Taking the other pad he started looking over the data. Some of the more hedge-fund like aspects of it went a bit beyond him but accounting, for all intents and purposes, was something Argen had mastered over 30 years of being self-employed. "The sheer amount of transactions here is sort of breath taking, this great-uncle of yours was loaded in a manner that would make some planetary systems envious. But I'm seeing some issues." He tapped the datapad, and the data list appeared as a hologram floating in front of the holoscreen. "Imperial Mining Ltd. Rothana Heavy Engineering, IBC, Merchant Galactic. All of these were shell companies owned by the Empire or companies the Empire had a monopoly over. Each one of them seems to have gotten funds from your uncles accounts, some of them heavily. Rothana looks like it got several billion credits just a few years before the on set of the Clone Wars, right around the time they started producing a lot of the war assets that the Republic Army used, if my history lessons were right. But then there's this."

    "First Planetary Bank of Onderon. When I first started up as a business owner, I needed a loan to get me going, upgrade my first ship, make modifications to help me actually operate as a courier. FPBO not only had the best interest rate they also had a program that helped entrepreneurs find work, if they were freelancers. Many of my early jobs were ones I got from them, I even kept working with them after I paid off my loan a few years later. That is until an incident on Naboo, where I learned that I'd been taking jobs that were secretly getting illicit cargo past Imperial customs, in order to get things for of, exotic nature, to Imperial Commanders. Including a shipment of weapons that were used to massacre Gungans." He let out a long sigh, "It seems that the Empire, as well as the people who organized it's rise to power, have been using money from your Uncles estate for nearly 50 years. And seeing how there are still withdrawals going on... I think it may be funding this new war machine of the First Orders."

    The Zabrak's eyes moved from the data list to the protocol droid. "Did you find C-3PY with the ship on Roon, if so the ship, and droid, might very well have belonged to your Uncle, or at one point one of the people using his funds." He shook his head, "If that's the case I'm sorry goldguy. I try to treat my droids with respect and well, I know I'm a rarity, but at least you look like you were well maintained so, hopefully it wasn't so bad for you. But I heard some horror stories about how the Empire treated droids."

    Damask was pleasantly surprised that Argen was picking at the data so well. 'I had noticed these discrepancies as well,' and nodded gravely. 'It is concerning. These encryptions were only breakable in the last three or four years, so it is particularly suspicious that from that point the particularly untraceable transfers took place. I'm tempted to suggest that the First Order may have even hacked these accounts.'

    The Muun looked to his butler, who had dropped his items off at his room. 'I found 3PY with the ship. He is a bit taciturn as I said. I think that I have drawn from him all of twelve words in a fortnight.'

    The protocol droid did not acknowledge Damask's comments and simply turned to face Argen. 'I have suffered no worse than any droid. My chassis is a replacement from an older one, destroyed during the Galactic Civil War.' Damask blinked at his openness, eyes narrowing, but the droid pressed on. 'Did you serve during the War?'

    Many of galaxies denizens simply referred to the Civil War when they made mention of 'the War', not the most recent affairs. The Yuuzhan Vong War had lasted a mere four years and done serious damage, but the psychic wounds from the Civil War and the twenty years of violence before, had left more damage. Defending on the extremism of the Imperials involved, some considered that the war did not end until the Remnant had re-dedicated itself to the Concordance, but an Imperial from the Deep Core was of the view that they had never surrendered.

    "Not in a very active role." Argen responded, treating the droid pretty much like any other sentient. "I was a civilian, didn't even know I was doing work for the Empire till it was too late and it left a sour taste in my mouth. For obvious reasons I didn't really want to get involved, but when I saw what they were doing to a species just trying to get by... I ran freight for the Alliance for a year or two after that. Nothing major, no weapons, never weapons, not again. Medial supplies, information, occasionally medical specialists. I tried to avoid fighting, I might not have agreed with the Empire but I certainly didn't want to take any lives of anyone serving. I was a businessman, not a soldier. Even if the Galaxy tried to make us all soldiers."

    Damask nodded, musing aloud. 'And here you are, asking me for this star courier. Which is fairly well armed in accordance with its size, possibly, if not probably, illegally so. Is that not a contradiction, Captain?'

    Argen nodded in admittance, "My first ship was an Arakyd Stalker class courier. Arakyd, I'm sure you know, produce ships that are somewhat more armed than their legally aloud to be. I come from Nar Shaddaa, where you learn at a very young age that somethings carrying a big stick is all you need to be respected. Fear, they say, is a hell of a spice." Argen gave the Muun an honest smile, "I'm not above defending myself, but if I can show enough teeth to keep from having to do so I will. Why do you think I currently operate a light cruiser? Besides, I'll be honest. I want the Star Courier more for the fact that it's a Star Courier, rather than it being armed to the teeth. That is, shall you say, a fringe benefit?"

    'You crave independence? A self-employed man?' Damask found that quaint. 'Then again, my job has allowed me to wonder the galaxy at a whim with this project, but ordinarily? Not so much. I have been required to keep in touch with my superiors so I do not go 'absent without leave'.' A laugh. 'Coded messages at regular intervals. Very boring.'

    "Independence and freedom are, two different things." Argen sat the pad in his lap and placed his hands together, "When I was young I rode swoop bikes. Traveling a few hundred KPH down narrow byways is, exhilarating, and it feels free. The speed does something to you. But nothing truly matched the feeling I felt when I strapped myself into my Stalker's pilots seat, felt the ship around me rumble as we left atmo, felt the subtle jerks and the nuances of the drive system as I navigated her about the cosmos and congested traffic ways of planets. Underneath it all, I'm still a speed freak I guess, and speed is something the Star Courier was known for. I suppose at my old age I'd like to recapture some of my youth."

    The Muun could understand that, but the protocol droid seemed to huff. 'A comment about age, butler?'

    'I would just draw the conversation to what the Captain proposes to transmit also. The Scylla will likely follow us to Yavin as well, especially as we were forced to tarry at Barison by the engine failure.'

    "Scylla? That sounds familiar." There was a beep, as a hologram of Cassie appeared in the place of the financial data. "It should Mr. Devalie, if you'll forgive the eavesdropping. You were present 17 years ago when General Iblis engaged Admiral Daala onboard the Scylla, we assisted in retrieving survivors from the destroyed CC-7700 after the Scylla rammed it before going into hyperspace. However the Scylla and Admiral Daala haven't been seen since that event, so it may be another vessel baring the same name?"

    The protocol droid glanced to the hologram. 'That is an interesting point.'

    Damask clapped his hands and stood, stretching. 'I think I need rest.'

    C-3PY canted its head. 'Do you not want to hear what is in the Captain's transmission?'

    Damask sighed. 'I am tired. But fine, Captain?'

    "Well, first I was going to offer my services again. I've a fast ship, a decent ECM package, and good survival instinct. Second I've been shadowing the Imperial fleet for a while. I have some tactical data, like how a couple of the bigger ships seem understaffed, and one seems to have a really bad exhaust leak. I did a great deal of passive sensor scans, so I can give the Resistance or Republic, whoever is at Yavin, a good idea of what's coming." Argen stood up, and motioned towards the door. "There's a guest bunk just across the corridor, you can rest in there, the bunk doubles as an escape pod so if we come to battle just seal it and wait. I'll be on the bridge getting us ready."

    'Bunk pod?' Damask found that quaint too. 'You live in an intriguing world, young man.' He padded into his room. Meanwhile, the protocol droid went to follow Argen to the bridge, to get to meet the other droids.

    After door closed behind Damask, Argen made his way further down the central corridor till he arrive at the double door airlock to the bridge. Once inside he knocked on the side of a console as he came inside, "Cassie, brought company." The GG-series droid spun the co-pilots seat around, sensors moving from Argen and C-3PY. "Hello. I'm Cassie, CFO of DTC." If a droid could have been proud of something, Cassie sounded proud of that title. "I made Cassie a business partner a few years ago, which took more than a fare share of legal work since, well, I'm sure you can guess. She's my partner in crime so to speak."

    "Rescued me from an Imperial training encampment."

    "If by Rescue you mean 'fell over while running for cover' then yes." The Zabrak motioned towards all the empty seats and spaces on the bridge, with all the consoles dark and their readouts transferred to extra screens by the pilot nest. "Feel free to sit or stand however you like. We'll be exiting Hyperspace in probably five minutes, hopefully well ahead of the Imperial forces. After that well, we'll see where life takes us."

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
    Sinrebirth and HanSolo29 like this.
  13. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Chapter Nineteen

    Matters were rapidly getting out of hand. Admiral Dorja reflected. He had briefly reconnected with the Imperial mainframe when he had drawn the fleet back together. His assets were the only ones which were not committed, save for Arrowhead Command, dozens of Resurgent-class Star Destroyers and more besides.

    The war was not going badly, but it was not going well. Even the Centrist response was not coordinated; world's which had promised to fall to them were resisting, as if the populations did not follow their leaders. Starkiller had been designed to cut from the Centrists the fluff, and it had simply exposed more - apparently methods meant more than results, because even the First Order wanted the same result as the Centrists. Or not, perhaps.

    The borders of the Empire were becoming defined, but there was a definite slow-down. Dorja was en route to his rendezvous with Snoke, having taken a slower route back because he had ended up replaying the conversation with the Inquisitor in his mind. Had Dorja crossed a line whereby he truly believed in an Empire imposed on the Force, too?

    Dorja's concerns, however, had been distracted all the more by the promotion he had received for the Eshan debacle.

    Grand Admiral Dorja.

    It had a ring to it. There had been very few legitimately named Grand Admirals. The original twelve, the replacements, and then Endor had happened, and Bilbringi and Byss, and the only acknowledged Grand Admiral was Pellaeon. But finally Dorja had reaped the glory he had deserved, even when Thrawn had bypassed him, and not even remotely tarnished by his association with the Sinister Triumvirate nearly two decades ago, in the first sparks in the Populist-Centrist divide; the Caamas Crisis.

    But why would he be promoted for Eshan?

    And so, having collected strays from other operations, and swapped his lesser ships with greater ones with his increased authority, Dorja had twelve pristine Resurgent-class Star Destroyers ready to relieve Snoke and end the Resistance once and for all.

    ---
    IC: Cappie
    Unknown Regions

    Jaina Solo's actions had an effect she may never have foreseen; it shattered Darth Dreadwar. His phantom had an eternal shatterpoint; his fear. In a man who feared only death, as age dragged one could only fear death, in an obsessive conquest of it, rapping at the window, reminding you that it was there, waiting.

    And so Darth Dreadwar, a seven millennia old Sith Lord, the mastermind of the Hundred Years Darkness and spectral masters of Dathka Graush and Darth Sadow, with all that legacy, simply became his constituent atoms at the hand of a shatterpoint.

    Gone.

    In a nicely anticlimactic moment.

    Because, after all, the way of the Sith was to embrace the ruinous path of defeat.

    In hindsight, Darth Dreadwar would have hated how he finally ended.

    So... Small.

    The moment passed, and Cappie trilled for her attention. Stormtroopers were coming, from deeper in the ship. Dozens. Hundreds. Maybe thousands.

    The astromech gabbled off a route to the X-wing, and to the tractor beam generator which could be used to damage the superlaser aperture, if she had time to grab an asteroid.

    But it also trilled a success; it had managed to get the signal off to Leia.

    Deeper in the ship, someone gasped; the connection was severed; Yavin was detached from him.

    This was all impossible.

    Unpredictable. Once the intruder was finished, they would have to go for the goal. Before it was too late. Plan Aleph had been undone by the loss of Starkiller. Plan Beta was simply going to have to be stepped up.

    Two weeks and two days after the destruction of Hosnian Prime, a gear turned, and the Galaxy, teetering on defeat, fell all that closer.

    TAG: Lady Belligerent
    ---
    IC: Kyle Katarn
    Beyond the Shadows, Yavin edge

    Kyle came too as Kodo stood over the pieces of what had been a person, and dropped to the ground. The Jedi Master did not know who they had been, but he knew that his Padawan was more troubled than Rosh Penin had ever been. Kodo had killed the man just because, perhaps some memory of his time on Dagobah, but it was not the point.

    He had killed when he may not have needed to. Kodo had not even explored the possibility.

    And then Vincent arrived, and he seemed to be experiencing some dark epiphany, which Snoke's shadow seemed all to interested in watching. 'Yes, yes, feel it. Hate me. I upended your neat little life, made you complicit in the return of Empire. Your business, your support, all in the aid of peace, was simply making my return all the more sweet.'

    Kyle bit his lip as he stood. He had to try. Lightsaber in hand and lit, he set himself. 'Kodo, I need you to see what you have just done. Vincent, I need you to control yourself. Don't succumb to the dark side - you don't need to be desperate, you have strength enough to succeed.'

    Shadow Snoke detached a hand from his fighting body; a slash here, catching a strike from Kyp, and then staggering as Bre reflected part of his Force lightning back at him - a glimpse of the 'real' battle before Kyle's attention focused on the shadowed hand; a bolt of lightning burst from it, too, and Kyle lifted his blade, rooting himself to the ground and refusing to budge.

    'Kodo, Kodo,' said Snoke, ignoring Vincent. 'Perhaps you could kill your master and ascend? It was his failure as a Master which allowed the massacre to take place at all. Perhaps he could have done more to stop Skywalker from trusting his nephew, perhaps he could have put aside his attachments, and had that hard conversation... And perhaps the Galaxy would have been saved, and perhaps you would not have lost years of your life on Dagobah.'

    Plagueis glowered at Vincent, weapons or not. The room seemed to darken as the sound of madness taking control of the Star Destroyer leeched in. The shadowy version of him seemed to fatten and then fully detached from the pirouetting main body, a crimson blade appearing in its other hand, as if seemed to draw upon the tumult aboard the ship and use it to separate its soul out.

    A shadow draped across them; a ship had arrived. Plagueis did not even look up. The unmistakable disc of the Millennium Falcon gave Kyle Katarn not a surge of confidence, but an aura of dismay.

    'My second body has arrived... And I've won. And there is nothing you can do anything about it.'

    ---
    Reality

    Eyes would have popped out of metaphorical sockets had they not been so distracted by Darth Plagueis. Genkal, however, was not so distracted and Bre's transformation into Wookiee - hot on the heels of her producing a lightsaber and reflecting part of the lighting hurled her way back at Plagueis, staggering him and nearly allowing Kyp and Qel-Droma to gain some traction against the Sith - was enough to draw his eyes wider, if at all possible for a Mon Calamari.

    As she reached for Genkal he was so surprised that he did not resist, and the jump was clear - or so it seemed. Plagueis reached out a hand and firstly turned up the palm to send a leaping Kyp up and out of the trench, while a gesture down roughly drew Bre back by her ankle and crashed her none too delicately to the stone floor - but momentum sent Genkal flying out of the pit. Qel-Droma took advantage of the distraction to stab forward, and his blade sank into Plagueis' robes... But only caught the fabric, as the man moved away, planting a willowy fingered hand on his face and sending a burst of electricity into Qel-Droma; he dropped, and Plagueis kept a hand pointed at the man, pumping lightning into his shuddering corpse. as he looked over Bre, plainly intriguing, the lightning reflecting in his bulbous eyes.

    'How interesting. A Force user changeling. I do not believe I have ever encountered that.'

    Snoke's robes were pockmarked where her reflected lightning had holed them, and two more prominent holes where Genkal had shot him and Ulic had nearly stabbed him, but closer would be the head of Strang, staring with empty eyes at Bre from less than half a meter away, and along her line of sight would be the still smoking corpse of Tholme, lightsaber on its belt.

    Plagueis still had his lightsaber out, but even he could not help clucking over something of scientific curiosity, even while his other hand was busy with killing Qel-Droma. He might take her with him. He was sure he could vivisect her on the go.

    After all, he had won.

    Twice over; here, and beyond the shadows.

    His ego whispered to him, and Plagueis paused. Carefully now.

    It was then that the Falcon arrived, and Leia was already looking down the gunwale at the scene unfolding beneath them. Plagueis ignored it. They daren't shoot at him as long as he had their friends. Not that Genkal was even there at all.

    ---
    The Others, Simultaneously

    Leia didn't even debate it. She couldn't shoot Bre to get to Snoke. That was a decision borne of the dark side. Even after Anakin, after the Yuuzhan Vong War, even after Han, Leia was resolute in the need to fight for every, single, life. Aboard the Falcon, Leia was un-clipping out of her seat even as Wyn was shutting the corridor of the gun-well. 'Hey!' Leia shouted. 'Open up!'

    Wyn keyed the channel. 'Malfunction. Happens all the time on the Falcon, I hear.' She cut the line, looked at Praxon. 'Go on then, regale me with what you intend to do.'

    It was then the comm cleared and Jaina Solo's message for Leia played. It told them that she had been trapped for two weeks by a black hole with a faked Jagged, had dodged the First Order and Ben Solo, and that she was on her way to Yavin but that she had gotten redirected to a back Super Star Destroyer in the Unknown Regions. She was going to make an attempt to board it.

    Wyn pulled a face. 'More of the crazy Solo's. Why can't I get the dreamy one? Jacen?'

    'He's single right, 'Dad'?'

    She was being difficult to stop him going down, but the comm crackled anyway; Genkal's voice.

    As he spoke, a new signal pinged onto the board; a heavy shuttle; Upsilon-class.

    Two heavy cannons, sensor jammer, currently inactive, and an anti-projectile deflection system.

    Snoke One.

    More than enough firepower for a damaged X-wing, a now shieldless Eta-5 and the Falcon.

    ---
    The Rest, Simultaneously

    The shockwave had scattered the atmospheric battle, but the space above was relatively clear in comparison to how convoluted it had been before.

    From his vantage point up one of the trees, Boba Fett could see that the battle had scattered to a ground affair, and strafing through that would be difficult; Pellaeon and Daala had both tried a ground assault on the forest moon and failed. The bounty hunter was struggling to release himself of the network of branches, as he had managed to lodge his jetpack. Knowing how expensive the missiles in them were, he was reluctant to give them up, but he couldn't stay up this tree forever. Snoke, or Plagueis, he would escape soon, if he had not. He tried to raise the Slave I, but the slave link he had in his gauntlet was damaged; all the more annoying as he could see the Firespray move to resume superiority over the Temple - but it was faced upward, looking for targets now on the ground.

    With a growl, Fett cursed droid minds. Opening a channel to Susular, Atropos and Goran, he placed his location on a data upload, before adding Han and Leia to the loop; Wyn added Rhoen and Lysa, honorary members of the 'Whack Snoke Squad'. 'I cannot raise Slave I. I need extraction, Snoke is here. I repeat. He is here..'

    Goran piped up. 'I'm out a ship, so I'll need a pickup too. Anyone but Atropos, ta.' Fett rolled his eyes.

    When Genkal managed to get a grip on his surroundings, he found himself by other debris, and Azgath N'Dul's real body. He went to stand, but his ankle did not like that. The aged Mon Calamari pulled himself over, prized a comlink from the body's belt just before the corpse burst into pieces, as if carved apart by someone. Genkal blinked, and then keyed the comlink to the Falcon; he had the codes memorised. 'This is Genkal. I am not near the Temple now, but the... Girl? The changeling? She is still there, with Snoke, I think I saw Durron go flying, definitely Fett. I am... I don't know precisely where I am, she said that there was a droid near - the General cannot land - absolutely do not let her' Genkal rolled onto his back, was surprised to see a black shuttle, of the same design as Kylo's Ren's command shuttle, it's wings now showing that the tree cover had been taken down.

    'I'm by his shuttle.'

    As he said that, the ship activated, pushing off the ground and moving forward, slowly but surely. It's wings dropped, and as Genkal rolled over, saw it heading back towards the Temple, or, rather, where it had been. 'It's on its way to Snoke.'

    As Genkal looked back where it had came, four stormtroopers made their way from the direction of where the shuttle had been. Genkal shifted to push himself into the undergrowth, whispering. 'Stormies.'

    Equally, stormtroopers were setting up E-web cannons around the Temple vicinity, preparing for a siege. These cannons could tax shields, and punch through hull plates. And because they can track signals even if they cannot decipher them, a cannon was being rushed to be positioned by each Fett, Genkal and Goran, with a view to using them as bait, hiding in the tree line, or propped up by Temple debris that was strewn across the jungle. Once they were setup, a full four man squad would be sent to their respective positions, with a second squad held to defend the cannon.

    Messy.

    ---
    Higher, in theory

    The tumble of Susular's ship didn't stop him frying any troopers on the hull, severing the cable and blowing into peices the transport, in a display of atmospheric manoeuvring that would have had any star pilot envious, all the while the comm filled with information as the disruption across all channels lifted.

    And then the SLAM kicked in and Susular would really feel the acronym, the system representing an absolutely perfect onomatopoeia.

    SLAM! His head would crash back into the seat, threatening a black-out when the g-forces kicked in. Something inside him definitely jarred, potentially fatally, the crushing force nonetheless saving him from becoming so many pieces strewn across the surface, and a constellation would birth within his eyes, all the more dimmed by the black nibbling at his vision as he wrestled with a deity more absolute than any Sith Lord; gravity.

    But he would break free... and all but clip Rhoen's X-wing and Lysa's Eta-5 in the process. Of course, consciousness would be an issue for Susular, let alone helping out anyone else. Had he been going at an angle directly opposite to the gravity, he might have been dead already.

    Lysa opened a channel to Rhoen now they could. 'We're disconnected from the rest of Corona Squadron - the E-wings have pulled back to the frigate.' All true. What few TIEs had survived had been hurled into orbit with the rest of Corona Squadron, and there were reports of disabled or damaged X-wings and ships. It wasn't clear if the red-piped TIE/SF that Stele was flying was crippled or not, but four TIE/FOs were all that remained of the Imperial forces, similarly strewn about and not responsive. As Atropos rounded his slingshot, the orbital battle was descending into calm, and although tens of thousands of Imperials had died since he restarted the Battle of Yavin, it was nearly over.

    Save for the true Dark Lord of the Sith down below, of course.

    Lysa gritted her teeth. 'Orders, Lead?' She was extremely conscious that Rhoen was not in the best shape, and an Upsilon was a pretty beastly ship for its size and ungainly appearance. This would not go well if they were not careful.

    ---
    The System Edge, South

    Callista felt something akin to helpless. Her circuitry was not predisposed to such conclusions. The cloaked man was staring at Vincent's form as it struggled, breathing heavily. 'I need to come into the bubble.'

    'The miasma, it's getting to me.'

    The Kiffar scowled. 'You have not even identified yourself. All you have done is placed a comrade in danger.'

    'I know. But if I catch whatever is in the Force, we will have a problem.'

    The ship reverted, and Niathal took control of the conversation. 'Sitrep.'

    The crew reported the wreck of the Mon Calamari cruiser, the debris of a Star Destroyer, what was left of a frigate, and a second frigate, intact, as Stormtroopers transports made contact with the surface. Pennant codes registered; the Millennium Falcon, Slave I... Snoke One.

    'He's here,' Niathal scowled. 'What control do we have?'

    'None, Admiral.' The officers voice sounded worried. 'This madness has spread across decks, and we're basically the only part of the ship still responding.'

    'So we're borked.'

    The Alliance officer looked slightly to Callista. 'There is an advanced AI interface here, that could allow an AI to take control of the ship, I gather, but she cannot account for the damage to the ship and those missiles that... Erm... Citizen Mikaru requested be loaded have not been.'

    'He wouldn't launch them anyway.' The cloaked man said. 'I can sense that Princess Leia is directly engaged with, or very close to, Snoke.

    Niathal cursed. Here she was, in a battlecruiser, and she was disabled. Snoke had manipulated a connection to Kodo and she had no idea what it was. She had readily agreed to take the Force users with her, not expecting Vincent to come, and even though she could take command of the situation now, she had nothing to take command of.

    'Have we broadcast our position?'

    'No, ma'am.'

    Small miracles crest the sea, Niathal thought. At least nobody knows we're here.

    ---
    The System Edge, East

    When Captain Argen and his crew arrived, they arrived to a cacophony of information from across the Yavin system. Transports were landing across the planet, clustering around some kind of battle on the surface. X-wings and E-wings, and the pennant codes for the Millennium Falcon and Slave I were broadcast.

    As they arrived, a shuttle broadcast its signal, joining the cacophony. It was a signal of an Upsilon-class.

    Snoke One was on its way.

    Whatever was going on, it was messy.

    C-3PY sighed. It simply pointed a finger at Argen, and the tip glowed red. 'I am afraid I must insist that we jump deeper in-system, and not broadcast the transmission.'

    'Is that agreeable?'

    ---
    Sit Rep

    With a Victory-class Star Destroyer Scylla in pursuit of Argen and his new guest, four Imperial-class Star Destroyers on their way from Antemeridias and twelve more Resurgent-class Star Destroyers on their way under Grand Admiral Dorja, the Battle of Yavin was positioned to be but one thing.

    The most dangerous place to hang around.

    With each passing delay, with each decision they made, the moment when the full force of the Empire would crash down upon them was approaching.

    And while they could probably handle the Scylla, and maybe, if they defeated Snoke, they could retake the battlecruiser of Vincent Mikaru, they could fend off the Antemeridian fleet. But after that?

    The endgame was rapidly approaching...

    And they were running out of time.

    TAG: Ktala, Darth_wanderguard, Kahn_Iceay x2, galactic-vagabond422, Tim Battershell, @Mitth-Fisto, HanSolo29


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
  14. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Force Ghost star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    IC: Rhoen Aquilla
    Yavin

    "I cannot raise Slave I." A voice broke though the comm, it was older and gruff, a voice Rhoen hadn't heard before but, if they were serious about having THE Slave I then it could only be one person, Boba Fett. He was sorely tempted to demand an explanation to rail at the bounty hunter for interfering but, held his tongue, 'Ace' showed that he was being patched in by the Flacon, and not an original recipient of this message. To say anything might make more problems for him. "I need extraction, Snoke is here. I repeat. He is here…" With those words, the young man's blood ran cold, sending a shiver up his spine. Their goal was in sight, they could end this all right here, right where it started.

    "I'm out a ship," Another voice said, "so I'll need a pickup too. Anyone but Atropos, too." Voices and names the pilot didn't know, he disregarded these additions, and his eyes fell on the now destroyed temple. Snoke must be there, it seemed the focus of all the activity.

    "This is Genkal." An aged Mon Cal voice spoke, "I am not near the Temple now, but the... Girl? The changeling?" Rhoen filed though all the people he'd met, he didn't recall meeting a changeling, then again how would he know? "She is still there, with Snoke, I think I saw Durron," Durron, Kyp Durron, it seemed the two young pilots were acting in concert with giants, the greats of the New Republic and Rebellion, "go flying, definitely Fett. I am... I don't know precisely where I am, she said that there was a droid near - the General cannot land - absolutely do not let her." Rhoen merely nodded his head, he wasn't onboard the Falcon so there was nothing he could do to stop, General Organa-Solo from leaving it, he hoped 'Han' had some idea. "I'm by his shuttle." At that moment, the young man looked at his scopes, and found the Upsilon-class shuttle.

    "Ace, mark that location, now." He ordered his R6 astromech. The droid did and Rhoen continued listening.

    "It's on its way to Snoke." Genkal continued, there was a rustling noise before the Captain spoke again, "Stormies."

    With that a craft came screaming past the two fighters heading off in a random direction. Rhoen pulled away slightly, heart pounding again.

    "We're disconnected from the rest of Corona Squadron" Lysa said, reestablishing communications between the two " - the E-wings have pulled back to the frigate." Looking back at his scanners, it seemed the rest of his squadron had been pushed back out into orbit, and were heavily damaged. Though his heart was buoyed by Lysa's voice, he still felt rather isolated, all that remained of the Resistance forces in the sky was himself, missing a wing, Lysa, lacking shields, and the Falcon. "Orders, Lead?"

    He took another breath, surveying the situation, the Flacon was over the ruins, possibly dealing with Snoke, or whatever happened there. There were three beings requiring a pick up, Lysa and Rhoen couldn't do that, with Genkal's report of Stormtroopers closing in on his position made things worse. They could be looking to capture them, or do something else. In his mind the captain was prioritizing, The aged YT-1300 was top of list but, it was more protected than the three spread out over the ground. Of those Genkal was Rhoen's only worry, the bounty hunters could wait, the Mon Cal was an officer in the New Republic, of which there were precious few now. He had a location marked out from the description Genkal gave of his location.

    "Seven," Rhoen replied using Lysa's diminutive callsign, "We're going to provide what close air support we can. I've marked out Captain Genkal's location using the previous location of the shuttle. We're going to fly fast hitting an area about fifteen meters away from Genkal's last location. I have no idea if the stormies will still be there but, maybe it'll spook them." He struggled to get his fighter on the needed vector, missing a wing was really getting difficult. Throwing the throttle forward he looked at his scopes, Lysa was still without her shields. "Seven," he said, worry entering his voice, "Stay behind me, I still have my shields, we have no idea what those stormies are armed with and we can't afford to take any chances."

    He looked to where the shuttle was, after completing their blind strafing run on the troopers, Rhoen would order a fast climb to gain altitude, then come straight down, right on top of it, hopefully in a temporary blind spot for its lasers, while he and Lysa poured fire into it. Once again he'd order her to stay behind him, they'd come too far to fail at this now.

    TAG: Sinrebirth HanSolo29 Tim Battershell Mitth_Fisto Ktala
     
  15. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Belila Gambros (Bre)
    In the pit of Darkness, Surface of Yavin

    Fred held in a barely suppressed whistle, as he watched Bre change and then grab Genkal. He had only seen her change fully once before, and he remembered she had not liked it much at all. And that it meant that something dangerious was happening. Well, he didnt need that to tell him. The fact that the area was suddenly becoming filled with so many beings, was proof enough for him. He saw the one they called Fett go flying, and another man he did not know, both out of the area that used to be underground. Then Genkal came flying out, with Bre, but then she was yanked back down, while Genkal went out on the opposite side of the pit. Fred held in a sound of frustration. A man with a lightsaber also came flying out of the pit as well. Fred felt confused, as he looked in the direction that Genkal had ended up, back down to where Bre hand landed, and then back up to Genkal. He didnt want to leave Bre. But she had given him orders about Genkal and General Leia as well. His processors fired like mad, and then he made a decision. Knowing that there were troups around, Fred began to carefully move, crawling low against the ground, like some strange spider, as he blocked all signals coming and going from himself.

    As Fred made his way over towards Genkal, he began to let loose a few smoke canisters, letting them drop a distance away from him, before they went off. It would hide the ground, and most likely himself for a bit at least. Long enough to locate Genkal, and lead him away, before things got even more interesting. Bre would be wagging her finger at him, if she heard what he was silently bleeping to himself.

    But a droid's gotta do, what a droid's gotta do.

    Being a fixer droid, he kept his eyes open for any other mechanical devices nearby. Bre had programmed him to fix a lot of things. And to keep a look out for a lot of things as well. He was also good at re-wiring and breaking stuff as well, as they had done from time to time, to delay something, or cause a later failure. And he had a few other tricks up his repulsors as well. But first, he needed to reach Genkal. Which meant getting around those stormtroopers. And their cannons.

    Cannons. Fred looked at the cannons closely. Fred watched the stormtroopers movements. If he could get close, he could rewire the cannon closest to him. Have it go nuts, and then he would be able to get Genkal out. And maybe even aid Bre. With that thought in mind, if it looked as if he could get close, he would do exactly that. If not, then he would head for Genkal, and see if he could extract him.

    Oh, so much work to do.


    --


    Bre reached Genkal, as she felt the Force singing through her body, empowering her steps. She had grabbed him,and luckily the man did not offer any resistance. Bre leap high, her intentions were to land on the side of the pit. However, it seemed that Snoke had other plans, as at the last minute, she felt something grab at her ankle. She pushed Genkal free, sending him outside of the pit, while she barely had time to offer a force push to resist the smash back to the pit below. But.it.still.hurt! Bre gasped, at the rude interruption of the floor getting in the way of her body. 'Not what I had planned.' she thought to herself, but at least Genkal was out. She just hoped that he and Fred would make it out, before any other troops arrived.

    Turning her head, Bre could see that Snoke was busy sending a burst of electricity into Qel-Droma; a hand pointed at the man, pumping lightning into his shuddering corpse. Then he turned and looked over Bre, plainly intriguing, the lightning reflecting in his bulbous eyes, even as Bre clutched her lightsaber even tighter.

    "How interesting. A Force user changeling. I do not believe I have ever encountered that."

    Bre coughed. "The Force is full on full of possibilities." Bre replied through gritted teeth. Snoke's robes were pockmarked where her reflected lightning had holed them, and two more prominent holes where Genkal had shot him and Ulic had nearly stabbed him, but closer would be the head of Strang, staring with empty eyes at Bre from less than half a meter away. Bre bit her lip. And along her line of sight would be the still smoking corpse of another, a lightsaber on its belt. Snoke/Plagueis still had his lightsaber out, but had not moved towards her just yet. Bre looked at Strang's head, and then that of the body of the another she did not know. A lightsaber was still on him. Bre had to act
    quickly, or Qel-Droma would be dead very quickly.

    Slowly, Bre concentrated on pulling the lightsaber away from the body that it was on. For a second, she thought about using Stang's head, but that just seemed too much wrong to her. She had a two prong attack in mind. She had already seen at how Snoke had managed to toss Kyp like it was nothing, but had managed to pin Qel-Droma down with lighting. If she moved, she would most likely get speared before she could get to her feet. She needed a distraction. So she would make her own. Without gesturing, she willed the lightsaber from the other towards her, letting the Force flow thru her, and allowing her to manipulate the saber some distance away, even as she held hers in check.

    "Why interfere in whatever that ritual was?" she asked him. He might answer, he might not. But it would still focus him on her, even as looked over at Qel-Droma. "Or is it just the, there can only be one, thing?" she asked with a slight grin. As she spoke, she cleared the saber from its hilt. Once she saw that it was free, she would use the Force to hurl it at Snoke, as hard as she could into his back. If she could turn it on, so much the better. It was not an good or an evil act. It was an act for survival. But she knew that he expected an attack. So she would give him one, even as she cowered in front of him. THAT part was not too difficult to act at all. But what was to come next, would be the hardest part. If she could not do it simultaneously, she would have to do it in quick succession. A Force push to the top of the body, while doing a force pull, to yank the feet and legs. It sounded stupid. It sounded irrational. A move born out of desperation. But totally unexpected. And worth it. For if that did not work, she might find herself doing a Bibt. Hopefully, it would not come to that.



    TAG: Sinrebirth, HanSolo29, Tim Battershell, Mitth_Fisto, Lady Belligerent, Darth_wanderguard,
    @Kahn_Iceay, galactic-vagabond422
     
  16. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Kodo Prine (combo with Sinrebirth and Kahn_Iceay)

    Kodo looked down at the fragmented body of N'Dul, still seething. It was unrecognizable now. But he felt no satiation, no relief from the poisonous hatred that swam in his veins, and the dark side called to him still.

    "Kodo, I need you to see what you have just done. Vincent, I need you to control yourself. Don't succumb to the dark side - you don't need to be desperate, you have strength enough to succeed," Kyle cautioned.

    "I can see it," Kodo said impassively, neglecting to even look up. There was an unnerving lack of emotion in his voice.

    A burst of force lighting issued from Snoke's open hand, blocked deftly by Kyle, and still Kodo stared blankly down at N'Dul's mangled remains.

    "Kodo, Kodo," Snoke started. "Perhaps you could kill your master and ascend? It was his failure as a Master which allowed the massacre to take place at all. Perhaps he could have done more to stop Skywalker from trusting his nephew, perhaps he could have put aside his attachments, and had that hard conversation... And perhaps the Galaxy would have been saved, and perhaps you would not have lost years of your life on Dagobah."

    Only now did Kodo lift his gaze to regard the Sith, and a soft shadow enveloped them all. The Millennium Falcon.

    "My second body has arrived... And I've won. And there is nothing you can do anything about it," noted Snoke.

    "You would have me destroy Kyle Katarn, and take my place as your apprentice. Would I stand opposite Kylo Ren as an ally - the one who massacred my friends at your bidding?" Kodo asked plainly. "The massacre was your doing, not Kyle's. I am not fool enough to place blame on his shoulders. It's you who have pulled every string, orchestrated every turn, just to reach this moment. And you proclaim such as a point of pride. You repeat that you've won, as though the ones you remind of it would indulge your pretensions by either arguing, or seeking to evade your victory. And some clearly would," Kodo chuckled now, his anger having faded. It was not a laugh of amusement, but one of dismissal. "Win then, Plagueis. Enjoy the victory you so crave. But know that I am no longer a player."

    He threw his lightsaber to the ground. "Destroy me if you would. But I will not betray Master Katarn. I will not play into your hands, and I will not validate your victory. You are nothing, only a small, petty, ignorant fool - with the temperament and fixations of an adolescent."

    It started as a snicker, carried on the wind that was the swirling Force among the shadows of this world. It quickly rose to a roar, a loud booming laughter, genuine and deep, and it's source became more clear. Vincent. Only the Echani didn't seem himself. After what had been a moment of strength, pulling himself out of the muck of this world baring teeth and weapons in spite of Snoke, he seemed to waver. He slumped, his body convulsing slightly as he laughed only the laugh was wrong, it was far to, feminine, far to aged. "Temperament of an adolescent..." the voice repeated as the Echani stood up. He seemed to waver, visually waver, and blur. One minute the tall and proud Echani, the other, a starkly pale bald female, clad in gold armor. "The lost youth... he has a way with words..."

    The figure moved it's saber, holding it before them, clasping both hands on the grip, and in that single motion, the visage of Vincent faded away, his presence lingering, but clouded, shadowed by something more, something greater, more heavy in the Force. "Do you know the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Fool?" The figure sneered, lowering the saber away and revealing the form of a female Rattataki, black tattooed lines marking along her skin, gleaming silver piercings, culminating in a large metallic triangle in her forehead adorning her flesh, and a set of polished gold armor, runes of an ancient language engraved along its edges and lines. "You speak with passion, but like peace, your passion is a lie." She raised her hand, electricity arcing across her finger tips, as the Force around and above her seemed to swirl. Lightning cracked in the distance, and the air suddenly felt heavy of static, and ozone.

    "You can never know victory, because you know nothing of Chains, but me, and my line, we know Chains." She turned her sight from the Sith before her to Kodo, her piercing blue eyes locking on his as his Saber lifted back into the air, hovering ready for him to take. "Do not lay down your life just yet young one, for there is much left for you to do, Your legacy doesn't end here, and neither does mine." She looked back at Snoke, or whoever he thought he was, and smiled a sinister grin. "Did you think that Vincent was a mere Firedancer? Some child gifted in the ways of the Force? Sith of far greater power and stature than you have risen and fallen, but only a few have truly created a lasting legacy. You reached out, in your pompous need to gloat and touched upon all within the Force who might listen. And that included me. One day, Vincent will grow to be a great leader, a sovereign of his people. But today you face his past." The lightning suddenly arced across her body, into the palm of her hand, into a pure orb of destruction that she unleashed in Snoke's direction. "Today you face Darth Imperius, and the legacy of Aloysius Kallig!"

    Snoke looked at Kodo with complete and utter contempt, and disbelief. 'How... Short-sighted.' He raised his hand from Katarn, lightning crackling from one finger to another. Katarn groaned and slipped into unconsciousness. The hand raised to annihilate the boy even as the shadow realm seemed to recede slightly, to lighten, to fade - as if Kodo's first steps had weakened at their connection, but Snoke was not a man who surrendered easily.

    'I can only take solace from the fact that I could manipulate you so cleanly. That I had such influence over you, that I could interpose memories into your mind and make you kill, when you have never met Azgath N'Dul before. How... murderous of you.'

    Snoke snarled at the interloper. He had purely wished to humble the man, and instead had unveiled a legacy. Both Kodo and Vincent created surprises for him.

    Snoke's visage smiled, as he simply interwove the darkness that 'Darth Imperius' created into his shadow realm; if Kodo despaired from Snoke's revelation, then it would strengthen all the more. 'Oh yes, one of the dozen or so Outlanders that battled the Eternal Empire. I know the name. The slave name. I know how little it achieved, in the aftermath. Oh yes.

    Snoke took a step to put them at a further distance, so he could review them both.

    'One would argue that the quality of a Dark Lord diminishes when there are twelve under an Emperor. A title I propose to seize anew!' Snoke released a web of orange lightning from both hands towards Imperius and Vincent.

    The revelation regarding N'Dul had been nothing short of a punch to the gut for Kodo; yet again had he allowed himself to be manipulated, and made himself into an embarrassment and a disappointment.

    He sunk further into despair as he felt Kyle lapsing, at what he perceived as abandonment. But then something snapped. He had boldly proclaimed his own abandonment of his master only moments before - now when he was needed most. It was shame which had led him to do so, shame and frustration at his own failings more than any of Snoke's manipulations.

    And now he recognized that there would never be a greater opportunity for redemption. Mentally, he called on whatever bond he had come to share with Kyle in their short apprenticeship. "I'll fight if you will," he thought, hoping that in some form the message might get through. Bodily, he snatched the lightsaber which hovered before him and in his grip it came to life again in brilliant sapphire.

    With rare clarity and focus, he closed the distance and lunged at Snoke with a measured but powerful saber strike, attacking from the flank. He did not expect to survive.

    He didn't mind.

    Imperius raised a hand, and the web of Snoke's lightning struck an invisible barrier, the static energy in the air coalescing into a barrier between her, and his wrath. "It accomplished little, because I saw fit to let it." She took a step forward, pushing against his barrage, one foot in front of the other, a calm steady pace as orange tendrils of pure fury sparked against her own will and struck outward to the ground. "You refer to it as my slave name, as though that is a shame." The barrier pushed away from her, pushing further back towards him as she progressed. Her eyes followed Kodo, and aimed to keep Snoke's attention on her. "The Quality of a Dark Lord you could say," She pushed her other hand forward, the barrier splitting just enough as a large tendril of purple energy shot forward from her hands back along Snoke's, "stands more in their true actions... not the memory of others."

    Snoke hissed as his bolt was caught by her barrier. He had not strained himself, but nonetheless it was a powerful attack. With a gesture he went to knock her feet from her, she unleashed a purple stream at him. He cut his hand back, his gesture still having been completed to shove at her ankles, and then he cut his hand away to sever the purple connection. Kodo was upon him, and Snoke lifted his blade from up low to catch the strike high, so as to mislead it, before gesturing hard at Imperius. Dancing so Kodo was between him and the new threat, he malevolently grinned. 'Come on then, my apprentice-to-be, my little murderer.'

    Kodo pivoted after his strike was blocked, but was outmaneuvered easily by Snoke. The bile rose in his throat for a moment at the taunt, before he choked it back down and managed to keep his composure. He now stood between Imperius and Snoke, no doubt used as something of a shield against ranged attacks from Imperius, even if only for a moment. He might not have trusted Imperius not to kill him if it served her purposes - but for now it didn't seem to.

    Relentless but still levelheaded, he stepped in again, feinting a low thrust before a quick step to his right, away from Snoke's saber hand and the best of his leverage, and swung deftly for the back of his knee. He was out of Imperius' way now as well.

    Snoke was easy to predict. Imperius lifted a leg and then slammed it back down, widening her stance as though a martial artist, and solidifying her grip to the 'ground' with the Force, letting it root her. Focusing the Force through ones body, as a fighting form, was not new, though in this age it was not wide spread, Imperius was thankfully three millennia behind the times. Snoke's wave washed over her, as she held out her arms, the young Jedi coming between her and the Sith, his focus on him. Good. She'd need a moment. Opening her arms wide she called on the Force, drew it into every fiber of her existence, in the physical world, where she lay locked away in stasis, and manifest in this dark reality.

    The air around her began to waver and swirl, a dark miasma seemed to seethe around her, curling up from her feet, spiraling around her torso and out along her arms. Snoke, or whoever he really was, had been right. Imperius had been one of the many Outlanders who fought against the Eternal Empire. And like every Outlander, she had been touched, and that mark, regardless of if you called it a blessing or a taint had been passed down her genetic line, thanks to Kallig's true legacy, his 'living holocron'. And now, as she manifested this power, the apparition of a tall man, aged with greyed hair formed for the briefest of moments, clad in robes of ebony and ivory, and his sinister laugh echoed in the galaxy once more for the first time in 3000 years as he smirked. Then, also for the first time in nearly 3000 years, as Kodo danced his own little dance with Snoke and was out of the line of fire, Imperius unleashed the fury that at one place, in one time, had stolen the lives of thousands in an instant. All focused, all intent, on a single undeniable fact, burning within her being, the being of her descendant Vincent, and their living legacy. The death of this being, that called itself Snoke.

    Kodo danced around Snoke, and the Supreme Leader knew that they were coordinating. Snoke brought his off-hand around and yanked on Kodo, not to pull him close but to turn himself around and catch the blow down. 'Very smart, Kodo. Very good.'

    The moment was here, and now. Just as much as Kodo had faced his challenge and prevailed, as much as this shadow realm gave access to the dark future and dark past, the connection from here and there, it all came together and Kallig, Imperius, the Outlanders, Vincent, they were the conduit of seven millennia of power, and so Snoke knew that he could not afford to let it hit him unperturbed. He could gesture with the Force to try and keep Kodo close, but why even try? Snoke simply gestured Kyle's limp form and drew that as a shield, holding it between him and Vincent, even as he battled with Kodo. The two of them were doing annoyingly well.

    Snoke detached his mind from his gestures to hold Kyle up, and placed two hands on his hilt, sweeping a slash low at Kodo's ankles and then allowing muscle memory to anticipate a jump and spin and slashing up, or, if Kodo hopped back, a lunge forward and slash up that way, his wrists bounced to roll his arms as necessary, his feet positioned so.

    If he killed Kodo, he could sever Vincent's connection; if he severed the connection, he could take the hit that remained. But Kodo was the fulcrum on this battle, and he could not do anything more with the Force but keep a mental connection to Kyle's unconscious form.

    This was getting closer than he would have liked.

    Kodo spared a brief thought to Kyle, vaguely hoping that Imperius wouldn't consider his master expendable enough to simply blow a hole through to get to Snoke, but he stayed focused and blocked low. Flexing powerfully to meet Snoke's slash with more force than was necessary just to stop it, he intended to throw his positioning off slightly, or ideally surprise him. With little regard anymore for his own safety, Kodo did something he hoped would be wholly unexpected; he stepped in fresh off of his own block, quickly shut off his lightsaber, and came across with all his might into a backhand, aiming the butt end of his hilt for Snoke's jaw - which had appeared only halfway attached to begin with. His uncomfortable proximity would make a lightsaber counter exceedingly awkward, and he hoped that the focus paid to Imperius, Vincent, and even the unconscious Kyle might leave him spread just thinly enough for his maneuver to work.

    Snoke's attention was split over two realms, over several battles with several people. It was a learning curve even for him, and scientific deduction suggested that he was overtaxed...

    ... About the point that Kodo dislocated his chew and sent him staggering back. His mental lightsaber slipped from his hand, and vanished, a thrashing hand sent Kodo away, and Kyle too.

    And it left him wide open.

    Snoke's eyes flared open in complete surprise.

    Imperius waited, continued to build up, vying for that singular moment when the way was clear, and as Kyle was slung out of the way, she unleashed his wrath. When her line had first used this power on the control spire of Asylum it had been unfocused, unwieldy, succeeding only in damaging it's target and costing the lives of countless others. But now, centuries later, with training and focus the tendrils of lightning forked and spiraled in a concentrated, the air hissed and the dark fog of this shadow world seemed to push back as millennia of legacies culminated into a single devastating blow, aimed at the center of Snoke's chest.

    Hurled back by Snoke amidst the chaos, and surprised that such a crude attack had worked, Kodo found himself half-lying next to Kyle's limp form on the ground. Not entirely sure what he intended to accomplish, and acting in haste, he scurried quickly to Kyle and grabbed at the man's robes - ready to pull him aside or even physically shield him if necessary.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, Kahn_Iceay
     
  17. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    Combined with Sinre

    IC: Susulur Dha'tra
    Yavin IV, Fighting Gravity

    Seeing the ships droid brain follow his pre-preparred battle tactic almost in perfect sync with his own actions to fry-n-fly was a thing of beauty. It gave a sense of building pleasure as the electricity coursed over the body of the stormtrooper, as the missile blew the enemy transport into atoms, and as the point of horizon dipped below his crafts nose -

    SLAM! There was no other word for it. The force of the maneuver was the sure fire way not to become scrap upon the jungle floor, but it also was a sure fire way to crack his skull back against the seat, his bucce's tight fitting and padded nature probably the only thing between him being what he assumed was alright mentally and being mentally impaired at the end of this maneuver as his ships inertial dampeners were overloaded from using the ships acceleration system in a gravity well.

    Still there was the pain, there might of been a sound to it, but all Susulur knew was the pain and in some mixed way he was grateful. Grateful to that pain as the darkness clawed at the edges of his vision and sheer mental will and mandalorian grit were the only things egging his biology onward to keep going. For with that pain he was sure the added adrenaline was what was keeping him truly in the here and now as he just missed clipping another ship. And then another. Spinning was the only true maneuver at the speed, and for all he knew it was making it worse, but he had to trust his gut to get him out of this.

    As things slowed and the inertial dampners caught up with his situation he twisted his ship around. Taking in the state of the space battle. He couldn't breath. No that was not the battle, that was himself. Breath slowly. Definitely himself. There was a noise, with every breath, probably no one else would hear it, but transmitted by his own bones and flesh it sounded like a loud growling grinding challenge with every breath as the Mandalor spoke through the comms.

    Osik! As his HUD displayed a heads up view of what was the locations for pick-up he felt with his electro-gloved hand across his chest. There! Argh! "OSIK ARUTIISE!" he grunted out and a few other words in pain that were not for repeating in any company of most dis-respectable joints.

    "Mandalore." he spoke into the channel as he felt over his sternum that thrice cursed amulet to hide him in the Force. Now it was sitting at an off angle and the added pressure of just his grazing fingers over his armor sent spikes of halting pain as he turned his ship around and took in the battle field. "Goran." Yes, definitely his sternum, possibly a tear in the rib cartilage. What he wouldn't give for a medic of any race right about now. "Sit-rep. ETA delayed. Returning. Room for one. Only." Lining up his sensors he scanned the scene before him, painting enemy TIE's and Resistance X-wings as he returned toward Yavin and his comrades in distress.

    It was difficult to under state a sternum injury. Pain, yes. Tenderness, a given, which a ship spinning would likely not endear to. Swelling, now, this could be bad. It would increase the tenderness, and the pain, and potentially, depending on the severity, start to push other bones and this organs apart. This was long term damage, but of course if part of a bone was already stretched by the impact, there was a risk that it would snap, embedding pieces in those precious organs. As and when Susulur removed his armour, he would definitely see an indent, spread out by said breastplate, which implied a shallow injury, but the deformation would definitely reverberate with his heartbeat, which, quite understandably, would higher right now.

    And that was before he did anything like, say, breathe.

    It might be crippling pain, if pressure was put on it. It also might not.

    The overall battle was calming down, having moved to a ground element, save for the large black shuttle now making its way towards the Falcon, an X-wing with three s-foils, and an Eta-5 fighter.

    That didn't stop Goran picking up on the strain in Susulur's voice; a private channel. 'You don't sound good, ner vod.'

    Feeling the rhythm of your own heartbeat thudding in your ears was a common enough sensation in high stress environments. Less so the more of life you lived, and as a Mando'ade he had lived alot in the last few years, and before that he had seen more than a thing or two before that life had been consumed as if by the Manda. But feeling the rhythm of your own heart by the pain it caused was a new sensation. At this point he would say 75 beats per minute, maybe higher. And the pain was not helping to slow it any.

    "1B. Later." He simply stated as he gently gave the enemy craft whether Imperial or Resistance wide berths. "Sit-reps? Who's, priority, evac." At this point he wasn't sure if he was being held together by his armor or if it was making it worse, but until he felt like he was mar'eyce manda - finding heaven - he would keep himself pushing through it all. Albeit gently as to not quicken the possible finding of anything that dramatic and life ending.

    'Priority would be this Genkal guy for the Resistance, but we don't have eyes on the target, either. He's under the Falcon and Leia won't light up her people to kill him.' Goran sounded annoyed. Not at Leia, but the situation. 'I have four Stormies on the way and I could do with you distracting them off me. They're not being too reliant on tree cover so they must have support, probably an E-web, knowing Stormies. Can you buzz them and I'll try and find my Aggressor? It went down in the shockwave but should be intact. Pretty hardy, as a rule.'

    'That shuttle is coming across though, and it's an Upsilon - I don't reckon the others can handle it as they are. Dunno how much fire you're packing if you want to try and tangle with it.'

    "Just. Paint any, clusters. Will. Splash'm. In two." Setting his sensors ahead he scanned for any energy signatures. The shuttle was a beacon, and one which he sub-targeted to the left wing. As soon as he had a good lock he would release Five advanced proton torpedoes. If the wing was destroyed they would auto re-lock onto the main body of the ship. Coming from above it would mean instead of veering to the left at the last second to hit the wing they would go straight down into the body.

    Next was to pick out the stormtroopers. Life readings even if he was close enough to do so would give him nothing. Too much life on a jungle planet. Instead focus on the power units in their armor. Use Goran and Fetts provided data and target them with concussion missiles. He would spare three or four missiles to give a good spread before he did an areal recon run. If he saw the ship he would ping the data to Goran's bucce. Otherwise he would be swinging around in atmo trying to keep from catching whatever the Upsilon Snoke One tried to deliver.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, galactic-vagabond422, HanSolo29, the Battle of Yavin
     
  18. Kahn_Iceay

    Kahn_Iceay Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2006
    IC: Argen Devalie

    Argen had just finished strapping himself in when the ship dropped out of hyperspace into a clear and utter mess around Yavin. He was about to put his hand on the controls when he heard the Droid behind him speak and also heard, and felt, the charge of a hold out blaster. "Ah, well... you kinda make it hard to say no..." Argen very slowly placed his hands on the controls, and began reorienting the ship for another jump, deeper in system. As he worked, he glanced at the various displays rigged to his control station, and saw that his Munn passanger was safely in his bunk, which due to the hyperspace exit was now nicely sealed, and using its own gravity. "I'll need a moment to readjust the navigational system for an in system jump." Which was of course true. He began putting in various bits of information into the navigational computer before suddenly lifting his hand, and slamming it sideways into a large console button to his left.

    The ship's gravity system shut down, and everything not strapped in or secured, like say, an overzealous protocol droid, was suddenly free floating, and Argen slammed his foot into the port thruster control and shoved the flight stick in the same direction sending the ship into a sudden sharp turn, and everything left to it's own inertia found itself going in the opposite direction. As the ship began to spiral Argen pressed his other foot against the central console, bracing himself as he lifted himself up slightly, drew his LL-30 blaster pistol and aimed it at the tumbling droid. "I did say I wasn't above defending myself," the Zabrak scoffed, before pulling the trigger.

    --- --- ---

    IC: Callista

    Helplessness was not something Callista was used to feeling. The man she had been tasked to protect lay helpless on the floor, the ship around her was in chaos, the system beyond it even more. "The ship..." She spoke aloud to herself. She still felt the ship, she could still feel its systems. Many were down, some were showing damage, physical damage, probably from the minds of crewmen being twisted. For a moment she thought back to the twisted mind of the Engineer from the Kuati senator's ship, and worried the crew might suffer the same fate if left to this much longer. But this ship had one thing that they had not.

    "I can account for something..." She finally said, looking at the Alliance officer who had seemed to realize it all before stepping up to the command chair and taking a seat. A section of the back of her neck slid open, revealing an access port that part of the chair folded forward to meld with. After a moment the blue haired woman's eyes went red, as the emergency lighting around the ship kicked in, and the entire vessel went into a combat alert. "Ships Status" Her voice echoed through the bridge, reverberating from every console. "Shields are at 73%. Hyperdrive spooling down. Hypermatter reactor is operating at 88%. Weapon systems report...." There was a long pause and Callista's head seemed to twitch.

    "Primary turbolaser control systems offline, rerouting. Secondary turbolaser controls offline, rerouting. Point Defense systems operational at 97%. Missile tubes A1 through B2 are offline. Missile tubes C1 through D2 are operating at optimal capacity. Magpulse system armed, loading system's online. Magazine status... Mark-IXX Assault Concussion Missiles, setting yields to maximum. Engaging targeting systems." Holographic overlays began to appear along the bridges view ports. Republic and resistance IFFs began to show, along with the First Order ones. Target designation, bright red spinning circles each with four prongs began to appear. Four over some seemingly disabled TIE fighters, and then three more over the target designated as 'Snoke One'. "Firing solutions have been achieved, awaiting authorization to fire."

    Callista's gaze turned, and fell back on Vincent's form slumped on the floor. Her hands seemed to grip the edge of the chair tighter, and those with keen hearing might have heard the metal strain. "AUTHORIZATION OVERRIDE CADUCEUS-DELTA-SIX." The battlecruiser shook, it's inertial dampeners not quite at full strength as the operational missile tubes opened fire. The missiles trailed outward, spiraling in system towards their targets as the ships engines came back online and began pushing it further in towards the chaos. "Prepare for combat. Frigate Salvation requires salvation."

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
  19. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: 'Han Solo' (Duke Praxon)
    Aboard the Millennium Falcon, Yavin

    The cockpit fell into silence as Wyn triggered the controls to isolate Leia from the rest of the ship. Judging by the protests that immediately began to echo up from the gun wells, this wasn't going to end well. While 'Han' had trusted Wyn to handle the situation appropriately, he wasn't quite prepared for her to take it so…literally. He turned towards her now, his expression almost comical, as he made his best attempt to placate the situation.

    "Thanks," he muttered sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "You do realize she's gonna blame me, right? I thought that maybe--"

    "Go on, then," Wyn interjected, clearly not having the patience to listen to him whine. "Regale me with what you intend to do."

    'Han' blinked and scoffed incredulously at the bluntness of her inquiry. The truth was, he never truly thought it through. It was all based on a crazy whim and a hope. He should have known better than to think that she would not challenge him, and yet…

    "Well, I--it's, uh…" he stuttered, making a fool of himself as he struggled to form his thoughts into words.

    Fortunately, he was saved from any further embarrassment as the comm suddenly decided to clear and a message flashed on the console for their attention. It originated from Jaina Solo, intended for Leia's ears only, but surely 'Dad' could have a listen as well, right? He had been instructed to embody the role, and as such, he should also be allowed to take some liberties to ensure a flawless portrait of Captain Solo. With that reasoning in mind, he allowed the message to play.

    Jaina's plight was quickly laid out before them, highlighting her time spent within a black hole, her desperate plan to escape and the consequent events that led her to encountering a Super Star Destroyer in the Unknown Regions. And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, she still expressed a desire to come to Leia's aide here at Yavin. This is where his paternal instincts kicked in; he might not have been directly related to her, but he still felt an overwhelming need to keep her far away from here. If Leia was in intimate danger, he couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen to Jaina if she happened to saunter into the trap as well.

    He had already begun to type up a response when Wyn broke into his thoughts once more.

    "More of the crazy Solos," she quipped, making a face. "Why can't I get the dreamy one? Jacen?" There was a pause as she adopted a more playful tone. "He's single, right, 'Dad'?"

    "He's not your type," he said flatly, recognizing Wyn's ruse to distract him from playing hero. "Besides, I thought I was the dreamy one. Why else would you agree to tag along with me, huh?" He flashed her a devilish grin before returning to his message.

    As he worked, he toyed with the idea of bringing Leia in on his response, but again, he decided that he should ultimately be allowed to take certain liberties and come to his own conclusions, especially if this was to work. He couldn't be running to Leia for permission every time he needed to accomplish something. Of course, the Star Destroyer was a whole other issue. He would fill her in later, he decided, once they were safely away from here. For now, he sent his message, hoping it would get through the interference:

    Stay away…too dicey. Don't worry, I have everything under control; mom is safe. We'll meet up with you when we can. Be careful; don't do anything stupid. Miss you.

    'Han' sighed and slumped back in his seat, silently observing the chaos unraveling below. Don't do anything stupid. If only he could heed his own advice…

    At that thought, the comm crackled to life once more, now filled with the desperate pleas of those still stuck down on the surface. While he was able to pick out Fett almost instantly, he was far more interested in the second voice, which belonged to Captain Genkal. Surprisingly, the man was still alive, and he certainly had a lot to say. Overall, the situation didn't sound too bad…well, all except for maybe the changeling…and the shuttle.

    "What shuttle?" he voiced with concern as he searched the space outside the viewport. As if on cue, a new signal appeared on their scopes just as the black hulk rose from the surface, kicking up dust and debris in its wake. 'Han' stared at it for a long moment, his expression hardening as its angular wings dropped into position and it banked for the temple. He had the perfect opportunity; all it would take was one shot and he could potentially cripple Snoke's escape…

    But before he could squeeze the trigger to unleash the concussion missiles, several things happened at once: two starfighters – he could only presume this was all that was left of Corona Squadron – dropped in low, firing their laser cannons into the clearing as they conducted a strafing run; several anomalies also popped up on his scanners as smoke canisters began to flare up at random intervals, providing the proper cover that was needed to pull off a successful extraction; to top it off, a warning alarm blared on the console, mere seconds before a flurry of missiles sailed in from above to target the wayward shuttle.

    He gaped. Where had they come from?

    No matter. It was working to their advantage and it supplied the necessary distraction he had been looking for. He would worry about their allegiances later…if they lived that long.

    “I don’t know who they are, but I’ll take it,” he reiterated his thoughts to Wyn as he started to rise from his position, securing the gunbelt and holster Leia had supplied earlier to his waist. He also grabbed the comm headset and placed it over his head as he moved. “Bring us in as close as you can and keep her steady. I don’t wanna be bumping all over the place back there. If the General gives you trouble about her, err…situation, switch her over to me.”

    As he moved for the access corridor, he paused to rummage through a pair of storage bins until he found a cinch and some cables. He hastily attached the former to his waist and threw the rest of the bundle over his shoulder. Straightening, he looked at Wyn one last time. “Once I give you the signal that I have everyone on board, I want you to climb,” he continued, hesitating for a brief moment as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “And whatever you do, don’t land, you hear me? I’ll be alright.”

    He smiled weakly and turned to disappear from the cockpit, heading aft for the landing ramp.

    TAG: Sinrebirth; galactic-vagabond422; Kahn_Iceay; Mitth_Fisto; Ktala; Lady Belligerent
     
  20. Moonspun Dragon

    Moonspun Dragon Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 6, 2011
    GM APPROVED

    Character Sheet

    Name: Izzy Stark
    Age: 18 standard
    Species: Human
    Gender: female
    Equipment: A blaster and a couple serrated- blade daggers
    Personal ship, if any: None
    Short Bio: Not much is known about Izzy except that in certain circles, she is an excellent spy and assassin. Her instincts were sharp and she's deadly with her daggers.
     
  21. Lady_Belligerent

    Lady_Belligerent Queen of the RPF, SWC, C&P, and Pancakes & Waffles star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    Combo with Sinrebirth

    IC: Jaina Solo
    Ravager

    She had thought it grasping to even attempt using the Shatterpoint, but truthfully it had been on her mind to try for years. The realization that it actually worked was...well, shocking. She looked at her fingertips as if they were the barrel of a blaster and blew softly at imaginary smoke.

    Jaina smirked to herself, "I guess this Dreadwar wasn't as big a deal as he thought he was...surrender indeed," she shook her head and her words trailed off. It was starting to feel like she was in a Fun House rather than a deserted Star Destroyer, and she'd best be ready for any other phantom clowns that materialize out of thin air to challenge her.

    The silence was suddenly broken by Cappie, 'Stormtroopers were coming, from deeper in the ship. Dozens. Hundreds. Maybe thousands.' Knowing that she'd wandered down a few levels and down dozens of passages, he quickly gave her a route back to the X-Wing and details that would be helpful to disable the superlaser aperture.

    With no time time to loose, she dashed towards the nearest turbolift.

    Cappie had fully hooked into the system but was also very aware that any moment they could be kicked out. A running commentary as to the stormtroopers was going, and Cappie remotely activated the other turbolifts to draw their eye away from Jaina.

    That didn't stop who was along her pathway. As the turbolift doors opened, a young female officer had her hand on her holster as she spoke in confusion. 'Who are -'

    Jaina's hand flew up and she force pushed the woman back into the turbolift, banging her head first into the metal wall of the lift car. She rushed inside and hit her comlink, moving quickly she gave Cappie the lift ID number and checked the officer to be sure she was indeed unconscious. The lift started upwards as she decided to take the woman's weapon and comlink.

    The comlink was not connected, thankfully, but it would not be too long before it - 'Captain, confirm turbolift Jenth-9 is clear, immediately.'

    The weapon was a simple side arm, with enough gas for about six shots, and no stun setting.

    The voice, however, matched that of the muffled electronic voice that her brother had.

    Kylo Ren was calling.

    Jaina grinned, "well, now...thanks for the line to Ben, Captain," she said to herself as she stared at the device. It was so tempting to give her brother a piece of her mind, but she wisely hesitated. If she answered, he'd know her exact location and that wouldn't do. No, but she had a better idea.

    Dashing down a side corridor, she scrambled the surveillance cam, and then spied just what she needed, a cleaning droid. It appeared to waiting on a lift to another level - perfect! She clicked the com, "hey Benny, yeah it's all clear. Wanna play some hide and seek?" Without waiting for a reply, She quickly clipped the com to the back of the droid as it was rolling into the lift.

    She sprinted in the opposite direction towards the small hanger.

    Ben Solo, known throughout the First Order, at the Supreme Leaders personal edict, as Kylo Ren, glared at his comlink. Jaina was here, now? Not waiting for permission, Kylo swept from the bridge and immediately muted the like and began barking orders. 'Track this signal, immediately! Do not allow any squad to approach Jaina Solo without my being there!'

    Kylo Ren readied his lightsaber, and joined the hunt. He was angry, and he felt powerful, more powerful than he had since he killed their father. Having something to face gave you something to rise to.

    And then surpass.

    Cappie whistled a warning as she headed that way. There was a four man Stormtrooper squad always deployed to the hangar and it's tractor beam controls. Cappie thought it may be able to sneak across the hull with their X-wing when she had cleared the hangar and direct her as to the next steps, but it was going to be tight. The 'fake Jaina' droid was going to be discovered soon enough and then Kylo Ren would undoubtedly check in with all troopers again.


    Skidding to a halt, Jaina consulted the directions Cappie had given her. 'Almost there,' she thought and turned a corner. "Be ready Cappie," she told her droid, "I'm getting closer, and I'm not sure how long before Ben finds the droid I sent him after." 'As long as I don't run into any more puffed up Sith wannabes,' she added to no one in particular.

    She made it shortly, with no further incident. But the Force told her that four troopers were prepared, on high alert, but equipped with the standard trooper fare. Two blaster toting, one flamethrower, one stun baton and shield combo. The hangar itself was relatively large, but mainly to accommodate the tractor beam emplacement and space for two fighters; not that any were present.

    Nothing insurmountable, but a massive Force exertion would be noticed by her elder brother.

    She used a very tiny push of the force to knock over a caf cup on the desk where one trooper was sitting watching a display. In a moment of typical stormtrooper hilarity, he jumped up dripping with hot caf and blamed one of the others for knocking it over. That gave her enough of a distraction to leap out and slam her foot into the lower back of one watching the argument. He landed face down and she turned to the next one and using the captain's blaster, firing three shots aimed the chest and abdomen.

    One Stormtrooper slammed into the desk, one shot, and it was half a moment into the fight. The Stormtroopers reacted swiftly as the kicked one slid to the floor and rolled under the desk.

    The third trooper energised his stun baton and swung it ready, but the fourth one swung the flamethrower in her general direction, having already opened fire as he spun.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
    HanSolo29 likes this.
  22. Halle Dray

    Halle Dray Jedi Grand Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 6, 2016
    GM APPROVED

    Character Sheet
    Name: Sava Boutros
    Age: 21
    Species: Human
    Gender: Female
    Equipment: Uniform of a First Order Private, holster with a pistol,
    Personal ship, if any: None
    Short Bio: Sava was born into a poor family Tatooine. Her parents wanted more for her and somehow arranged for her to take a test of admittance for the First Order. She passed and was sent to a First Order training academy at the age of 14. Sava worked hard to graduate and had more concentration than most of the wealthy teens in her class. She succeeded and was placed on the Finalizer. She holds the rank of Private and works under General Hux.
     
  23. Lord_Trekie

    Lord_Trekie Jedi Knight

    Registered:
    Jun 27, 2016
    GM Stamp of Approval, or something...

    Character Sheet
    Name: Myna'vera
    Age: 32
    Species: Twi'lek
    Gender: Female
    Equipment:
    • Utility Vest w/small Backpack: Rarely without her vest and pack, they hold the various tools necessary to her archaeology and cryptography, always including a secured, long range Commlink, a couple of Code Cylinders, and a rugged Datapad.
    • ELG-3A Blaster Pistol: Myna's primary weapon of choice, she has practiced with it, and tuned it enough, to be able to accurately hit targets a moderate distance away without much chance for missing.
    Personal ship: Myna's Dream, E-9 Explorer
    Short Bio: Myna'vera, usually referred to as just 'Myna' or 'Myn', was captured and sold as a slave fairly young in her life. Her first owner took pity on her, purchasing her in an effort to make sure she wasn't taken advantage of. Unfortunately he paid a lot more than he had wanted, and wasn't able to release her as he had wanted, since he had been looking for a slave to help him with his home and work. Thus she spent a few years with him, before he died from a medical complication, and she was auctioned off with the rest of his estate. By 24 ABY she had changed ownership a half dozen times, alternating between benevolent and cruel owners, the most recent being a Rodian named Laec Weeng.

    This would be the beginning of her life on her own. After 8 months of being frequently beaten and abused, rarely with reason, she managed to escape. Laec hired a pair of bounty hunters via proxy to find her, telling them she was his wife and may have been kidnapped. She knocked out one of them in a manifestation of force lightning, the other managed to stun her just afterwards. When she woke, she found herself restrained by the bounty hunters. They questioned who she was, since she was clearly not who was described to them, and she told him she was a slave running from her master. Even though they were upset at being lied to, and attacked, they decided to let her go, as the duo did not make a habit of involving themselves in matters of slavery.

    After a few years of basically working for whoever would pay her, no matter the job, she started to gain a knack for archaeology and cryptography, and struck out on her own after buying a ship with the credits she had been hoarding. She took jobs from whoever offered, whether it be Jedi, Smugglers, or Imperial, her only stipulation was that she would never steal from another person. She frequently ended up searching for lost starships, and in 31 ABY, was given an E-9 Explorer that she had been tasked to find by a client, as compensation for the information stored in the ship's data core.
     
  24. Lord_Trekie

    Lord_Trekie Jedi Knight

    Registered:
    Jun 27, 2016
    IC: Myna'vera
    Dandoran

    Myna yanked back on the throttle of her ship, reverting it back to realspace much more uncomfortably than intended. "Sorry!" She yelled out of habit before several alarms started going off along with several now-blinking lights on the various control panels. Frustratedly she punched the button for the comm channel, instead of the 'silence alarms' button, not even noticing that her vessel had been targeted by multiple vessels in orbit. "Unidentified vessel, halt immediately or be-" The voice stopped at the same moment as most of the alarms, which would have confused the already exhausted Twi'lek considerably, had she not been too tired to even notice. A voice coughed on the other end of the open line, "Sorry about that Myna's Dream, flight path is clear on your usual vector."

    "Thank you orbital control." Was all she said before she closed the channel with a sigh. She very much just wanted to go to sleep, in her own bed, not the sorry excuse for one on this ship. Which she reminded herself for the umpteenth time she ought to replace sometime, soon. Her astromech finally piped up from it's station beside her. "I'm fine Kate, just tired" Myna replied, not bothering to check the computer display to verify what her droid had actually said until after it had said it. "Oh, yes, tell Dee to prepare to disembark, we'll land in a few minutes." As the R2 unit unplugged itself from it's station, Myna brought the ship into the upper atmosphere on approach to her small estate on one of the smaller continents of the northern hemisphere. By the time her R2 had returned to the cockpit, with the Droideka in tow, she was lowering the landing gear and setting the ship down in the clearing next to her home. Myna quickly powered down the ships systems, her tiredness temporarily overridden. "Double check the systems and then lock up the ship Kate. Lets go Dee."

    Hearing the affirmative from them both Myna grabbed her vest and pack, and exited the ship via the lift and boarding ramp. The cool evening air was refreshing, but she was quite eager to get to the point where she could get a restful night's sleep, and trotted across the distance to her home. Once she was inside Dee turned around and waited for Kate to exit the ship, and when the astromech had done so, the two droids followed their owner into the house. Said owner had already started to take care of the couple of things that needed to be done before she could welcome unconsciousness. One was food, she hadn't eaten since very early in the morning, on account of miscalculating her supplies. The second was tending to her Ysalamiri, while they were about as hands-off as an non-sentient herbivore could be, she still needed to make sure they were fed on account of there not being any Olbio trees on this planet. Returning to her food processor, she retrieved her meal and then went upstairs to her bedroom, depositing her pack on floor at the top of the stairs, she had practically eaten most of her meal by the time she got to the bed. Hesitating, she sat the meal down for a moment, and stripped off her musky clothing and tossed it aside. Much better, she thought as she resumed devouring what was left of the food. Done a few moments later, she tossed the tray aside as well, collapsing into the welcoming embrace of her bed a moment later. When Kate came upstairs a few moments later to ask what to do about the messages that were waiting, Myna was fast asleep.

    For a few hours at least. A sudden wave of nausea assaulted her out of no-where, startling her as she started gagging like she was going to be sick. She stumbled out of bed and made it to the fresher before losing her dinner into the sink. Then she heard the whisper. Frantically she looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. Seeing nothing, she pressed her hands to the sides of her head, trying to pressure it out, though it only seemed to get louder, if still unintelligible. She screamed at roughly the same time that the voice peaked in intensity, and then stopped. Her droids were upon her as soon as they could be, Dee training it's weapons out into the darkness past the transparisteel walls, and Kate ambling over to physically check on Myna. The astromech let out a series of bleeps, bleets, and whistles, indicating that that home's sensors had detected nothing out of the ordinary, and asking if Myna was alright. The Twi'lek nodded gingerly, catching her breath and getting up from the floor she had found herself fallen upon. 'That's the second time this week you have experienced an event we cannot detect, are you sure you're alright Mistress?' Kate asked through the home's computer system. Mustering the will to talk was difficult, but when Myna finally reached her bed again she responded. "I'll be alright" she said, laying back down.

    There was a pause before she heard the droid's voice again. 'I know you desire rest, but do you want me to do anything with these communiques, or leave them until morning?' Myna sighed, "Go ahead and process them. More than 3 for Hosnian and we'll prep for a week like we have been doing. And up my rates back to 50%, we can't keep doing this at cost out the kindness of our hearts, we're bleeding money."

    'Of course, I'll have an itinerary and supplies list for you when you wake up.'

    "Thanks Kate, now let me sleep..." Myna muttered, the adrenaline rush finally having slowed itself. Though rest was not to return easily it seemed. After a while, Myna decided to force the issue. "Dee" she commanded quietly. When she received an acknowledging beep from the Droideka, she continued. "Stun me please, nicely." There was silence for a moment as the droid seemingly ignored her, before it relented and powered up it's blaster cannon as little as possible and did as it was asked. The Droideka couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It knew that what happened at the Hosnian system, though Myna had not been present for the event, had been taxing for the Twi'lek. As much as a droid could, it hoped it's masters life would cease being so stressful...

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
  25. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Chapter Twenty - Part 1

    Many people seem to forget that Coruscant has a Senator.

    It was more apparent when the galactic capital was not Coruscant, but it was a fact. While Cal Omas had suggested that the Senator of Coruscant should also be the Chief of the State of the Alliance, and attempted to treat the New Republic and Galactic Alliance as separate entities - all the clearer as the Galactic Alliance included spheres of influence that the New Republic never had, including the Hapans, Chiss, Hutts, Corporate Sector and former Imperials - the idea did not take hold as time passed after the Yuuzhan Vong War and old enmities rose anew.

    Over the decades of the Old Republic, Empire, New Republic and Galactic Alliance, there had been several Senators of Coruscant, Arbo, Orris Madmund, and, of course, himself, Fost Bramsin.

    Perhaps it was time Coruscant stood atop the shoulders of the Galaxy again. The man bristled. It had been twenty-five long millennia where Coruscant had ruled the Republic and the Galaxy at large, and a very brief decade where it had not. It had taken the New Republic years to detach from the system, and even the Empire seemed to have moved beyond it and took Byss as the new capital during the brief period in which it had retaken the Core, in an again brief breach of the Galactic Concordance.

    Bramsin resolved to rectify that.

    All they had to do was make sure that the Resistance did not pick up on connection. Bramsin waited for Treen to get back into touch, but he was aware that with communications under First Order control, any contact was risky, and all the moreso with their shadowy benefactors.

    It was all opportunity, and Bramsin and Treen would seize it.

    But first, that meant securing Coruscant from filth and Resistance agents, before the grand design moved forward.

    ---
    IC: Darth Plagueis
    Battle of Yavin

    Shadow Realm

    Darth Imperius, one of the sixteen commanders of the Alliance which has lead the charge against the Eternal Empire, one of the Outlanders, via Vincent Mikaru, and channeling seven millennia of Sith, hit Snoke with a concentrated, prepared, and focused burst of energy, powerful enough to sunder a Dark Lord from days gone past.

    It hit.

    It hit hard.

    The face of Snoke, already disjointed by the complete dislocation of its jaw, seemed to peel from its shadowy skull, the skin resisting and then sliding away, insofar as much as it did from the rest of his flayed body. The burst was sufficient to incinerate, and in the wave of light the spiritual skeleton became a silhouette, and then faded, and then nothing.

    The shadow realm fell away as the white ate even that.

    --
    Reality

    Bre's efforts, simultaneous to that of Vincent's, caught Snoke unprepared. Perhaps he should not have practised the skill of essence heart - a skill which was the hallmark of Force users who had mastered how to contain their incredible essence not in one body which simply could not cope, but over innumerable bodies unified under one will - in front of such foes, but Snoke had anticipated that they needed a handicap, and he had admittedly been drunk on the power he had snatched from interfering with the ritual.

    This analysis of events was very helpful, in hindsight, less so when one was wounded so.

    He had the presence of mind to turn his body so the igniting blade of Tholme would not kill him, but instead cut through his robe, but it was so quick that it carve a crease across his side, and he crushed his teeth together in pain - his temper flared, he touched the hilt with his mind to accelerate it through Bre's forehead and out through her brain -

    - and then her Force yank of his feet, and shove of his forehead, and his control broke before he could kill her and he slammed to the stone floor. His head was ringing, and he was sure that it was a concussion. Enough.

    He had lost enough for today.

    'Well done, little Jedi. But I can promise you this:- I will vivisect you before I am done.'

    Snoke kicked off the floor and latched onto base of the Falcon's hull. He quickly began crawling to the top, a gangly wounded spider in tattered robes and eyes in a battered face burning with a desire for vengeance.

    Time to go.

    The YT-1300 moved off, pulling high quickly, towards Genkal.

    It left Bre alone, unless she thought herself quick enough to catch it, though the smoke only dispersed when the freighter moved off; beforehand it even concealed Snoke. Unless Bre was especially sharp eyed, it would seem as if their foe had vanished, defeated.

    As it was, when the smoke lifted it showed four Stormtroopers were coming, and the flayed and fried body of Ulic Qel-Droma was struggling to barely breath, let alone stand. The diced corpse of Azgath N'Dul lay untended. The holed body of Tholme was sitting in a corner, it's chin against its chest. The headless corpse of Strang bore no expression... But it's head seemed to stare at Bre with condemnation, frozen in the grim expression it had held before it died.

    Bre had, actually, done incredibly well in incredible odds. But she was also the last one standing, such as it was.

    'Run, girl,' Qel-Droma gasped. 'Find your droid and follow your friends.' He grimaced. 'You can't help me.'

    'My time was over four thousand years ago.' Another breath, a chest heaving, and he held out the lumped char that had been his lightsaber hilt, almost unidentifiable, but one thing remained tenable; the power cell. The hilt was whining, as if the battery was being overloaded by having no emitter to express its energy, but the user was still pressing it to activate. It would only be able to express itself by exploding, soon.

    Ulic's lipless mouth curled into a smile, his eyes blinking within charred skin. They said smiling used a lot more face muscles than any other expression, and the pain running through him agreed with them.

    'And I've been living on borrowed time for a while.'

    --
    The Millennium Falcon, above

    Leia had watched as what was presumably Bre did her best against Snoke. Well, she assumed it was Bre, from Genkal's descriptions of the former female, and from what she was just about managing to see through the smoke. Well, presumably she was surely female under all that fur. Leia's mind had wandered, and she firmly clamped it down, but fundamentally she couldn't do anything. It was too close combat for Leia to risk interfering, and she couldn't even see, now, and the smoke was only obscuring more and more of her view.

    Damn it.

    Damn Han.

    And then the Falcon moved off and Leia could have spat fumes. Snoke was here, Bre was locked in combat with him, and they were off on their way? Leia reached for the comm; Han had still cut it off. She felt the reverberation of the ramp being lowered and rolled the gun well around, and had Han not done that she would have seen Snoke grab the hull.

    Instead her mind had wandered.

    Han wouldn't.

    Would he?

    Of course he would.


    She simply rolled the gun back forward and looked for the gap in the distance, when she wouldn't be firing at whomever he was trying to save.

    Snoke was on the top of the Falcon before long, drawing the Force around him and settling by the comm antenna, a circular dish that the Sith Lord knew was often ripped off in battle. He needed a breather, and pinning himself to a fast moving ship was one way of doing it.

    What to do now.

    He looked for his shuttle. It was a well tooled ship, worthy of a Dark Lord of the Sith. 11-4D was an able enough pilot - and a far better spy, of his very late and very treacherous apprentice - but he was nothing to Rhoen, Susular and Lysa.

    --
    the Battle of Yavin

    The battle had turned into a skirmish, now, and a rapidly shrinking one as the Imperial forces were destroyed. Susular wove fire across targets that Goran forwarded to him, line of sight, good old fashioned Mandalorian initiative overcoming technology, and Goran jogged to his ship. It was intact, if not hung up slightly in a massassi tree. With a blast of his jetpack, he was up in a moment and sliding into the cockpit of the Aggressor. He lit up his display and watched the Slave I, still stuck defending a Temple which was not even there, fire at the missiles from an exceptionally long distance. The missiles were ray shielded, and the slave rig was insufficient to judge that a concussion missile would solve the issue. Goran caught a glimpse of Fett rocketing towards his ship while being tracked by laser fire, and Goran painted a bunch more targets for Susular to hit on his way back.

    He switched on the Aggressor.

    Nothing happened.

    'Come on!' Goran said, exasperated. He slammed a gauntlet down on the display, and it achieved nothing save for making his hand ache. Popping open the console, he began checking wire connections, but it was time he didn't have.

    Where was the target?

    The missiles fired by Callista had to cover several hundred kilometres, and although the four disabled TIEs - not counting the surviving one of Stele, who had sufficient control to shut down his fighter and make it appear to be flotsam - could not do anything about it, the shuttle had plenty of time to respond.

    It did, however, have plenty of distractions as it advanced forward. Namely, the combined efforts of Susular, Rhoen and Lysa. Susular had peppered the jungle with missile fire, wiping out targets even as E-web fire spat out to target him on the fly-by, revealing a great deal of their positions and letting Fett and Goran paint them for Susular.

    His mini torpedoes were the first distraction, but the Upsilon-class deflection system simply activated, tractor beams diverting the missiles into the undergrowth with a series of thump explosions.

    Fire broke out, and it would not be too long before the fire was fanned, if the battle continued.

    Black smoke would begin to waft, providing more cover for the sky battle, but anyone not in respiratory gear, such as Bre or Genkal, would have issues before long, if it continued to spread.

    It was Rhoen and Lysa who dipped down in front of Genkal, driving apart the smoke and peppering fire along the way to the shuttle. The Stormtroopers died, but thanks to Goran and Boba coordinating with Susular, no E-webs were positioned to fire on them - had Susular not done that, one of the two would have died, if not both.

    And then they cut upwards and down again, flying so close together that it belied the intimacy between them. Anyone who saw would be impressed - and Corona Squadron was watching their commanding officers as the Salvation, busting to seams with the surviving crew from the Naritus, recovered them as well - and the shuttle simply took the fire of their strafing run down; its shields took the hits and did not care - it was incredibly well equipped.

    The Falcon darted forward and the shuttle fired its heavy weapons, missing as Wyn cut low, and Leia would have fired on the troopers on their way to take Genkal but Rhoen had completely saved him. Genkal had managed to stand, shakily, keeping weight off his twisted ankle, and his Mon Calamari eyes widened even wider than they had in looking at Bre transform into a Wookiee. Was that Han Solo, and was he hanging from the ramp of the Falcon?

    Was he insane?

    What kind of extraction was this!

    Not content to simply have her husband be the hero, Leia climbed out the seat as the ship was moving and decided that it was probably time to be a Rebel again, and not a Princess or a General. She ignited her lightsaber and worked on opening the seal. It may be Han's ship but it was her freedom.

    Wyn wouldn't have the opportunity to notice the door seal was being damaged with her narrow flying. Flying which was more complicated by the arrival of three missiles on the edge of her scopes. And being as they were high speed and capital ship scale and she was strictly speaking flying at the shuttle...

    ... Genkal lifted his hand for Han to grab him, ready to grab with a second hand, for once glad he had been out of water for a few hours and his grip would be more solid than wet.

    Their hands met, and it was again in the hands of the legendary Han Solo.

    The Snoke One rose above the threat and simply activated its cloaking device. It was a Sith tradition for there to be a cloaking device on the shuttle of the Dark Lord. Darth Tenebrous had designed the Scimitar personally, and it had passed to Plagueis and then Sidious who bequeathed it to Maul, though when Maul failed Sidious he subsequently retained it and even used it against Maul during his brief seizure of the Neutral Systems during the Clone Wars.

    Snoke had gone to lengths to ensure his personal shuttle was as heavily defended and equipped as any personal ship of a would-be galactic ruler would be, dropping passenger space for a larger shield generator as Iceheart had for her shuttle at the Battle of Thyferra, roughly a month after the Battle of Jakku, the weapons array that Kylo Ren had set, and of course the cloak.

    The three missiles instantly became confused and attempted to curve back up to reacquire the target. One went down as it attempted to compensate, and crashed into the ground, igniting more of the forest. One drove towards Rhoen and Lysa, just happening to launch that way as it attempted to reacquire. The last one simply rocketed forward and barely missed the Falcon as it passed the gap between them, the shuttle attempting to compensate to position itself nearby; it was tracking Snoke with its sensors and when it opened its ramp at the bottom of the ship the cloak broke again.

    Wyn dipped the ship lowered instinctively, which could potentially be quite dangerous for Han and Genkal, but helpful for Bre and Fred, who had ended up somewhat disconnected from events as Genkal had flown the wrong way to the small droid and was now avoiding shots by opportunistic Stormtroopers.

    But the shuttle had uncloaked as Susular came about again, a hedge of targets on the ground painted by Goran as Fett scrambled to board his Firespray and take back control; the shuttle could not activate its shields and the cloak at the same time; the issue was revealed.

    It turned to pursue the Falcon, bearing down on it, but Wyn had already opened a channel to the battlecruiser making its way towards them, multi-tasking as Leia rushed to the ramp to see how Han was doing.

    The missile which had hurled itself at Rhoen and Lysa started a ponderous turn back towards the shuttle, reacquiring. What few troopers remained attempted to light up them with E-webs; they were just about in range. Lysa had managed to avoid the missile and several shots but she was detached from Rhoen, she couldn't even track him.

    The young girl panicked, her knee bouncing in fear, and the Eta-5 responded poorly, jerking around - no, she was doing it, losing control.

    It was all a bit tight.

    --
    Further out

    The shadow world fell apart, and with it, the influence it had over the ship. The battle cruiser been progressing deeper in-system at its own momentum for the past hour, and the long-range missiles had certainly assisted with ending the orbital battle.

    There were slightly less than a few hundred Stormtroopers in the jungle, though, but the extraction was well under-way. What Callista had done, however, was telegraphed that they were here. Niathal wasn't happy. The two rogues felt when the darkness ebbed, even inside the bubble.

    Outside the bubble, the cloaked man sagged to the floor, taking a breath. Were someone close enough to see, they would be able to see the trickle of sweat that had ran down his chin. His hand was still on his lightsaber, but relief rolled off him as Vincent came to. 'It's over - it's passed.'

    He pulled his hood back, addressing Vincent as much as the others. The man's face was young, but the eyes bore weight. 'My name is Aden Kya. I am a Jensaarai. I've been investigating a link between the First Order and the Sith... And I think you and your friend Kodo have found it.'

    The Kiffar and his dark haired colleague exchanged a glance. The Mandalorian was still sitting there, arms folded, not impressed or interested. Nobody had paid him to say anything yet. But the Force users everywhere were getting on his nerves already.

    Niathal rolled her eyes. 'The Sith aren't important. We have just given up our tactical position to destroy four TIE fighters. The shuttle didn't even get destroyed.'

    An officer spoke up. 'We should be able to jump into hyperspace again within the hour, sir, ma'am. During the episode a droid fell from a height - pushed off a gantry - and landed on the hyperdrive casing. Minor damage but the techs want to do a full check... And a lot of the crew is injured or unconscious. The droids among the ship are mostly gone. Most decks are reporting damage, mainly superficial, but there is a lot of it.'

    Another spoke up. 'At sublight our ETA for Yavin 4 will be another hour. Looks like we lost track of a fifth TIE as it powered down, but to be fair we were at maximum long range missile range this far out so it's simply a testament to Callista that we hit anything.'

    'From the way the captain of the Falcon is swearing though, we may have complicated their evac.'

    A woman came over the channel. 'This is Wyn here. Stop shooting missiles at us! What half assed nutcase thought it was smart to fire capital ship weapons into a ground dust up! The TIEs, sure, they're in orbit, just about, but a shuttle as low as we are!'

    Niathal spoke up. 'Where is Captain Solo? I can only imagine he has recovered the Falcon if you're in the middle of a Resistance operation against Snoke.'

    Callista raised a finger for the Admiral to quiet. Again, as Wyn swore at him, not caring that Han could hear over the line. This time the female personality droid stepped forward and looked as if she was going to place the finger on the Mon Calamari's lips.

    The silver haired Kiffar stepped from the bubble and offered a hand to Vincent. 'Seems somewhat moot to keep an identity secret now. My name is Quinlan Vos.' Aden's eyes flashed in recognition. 'And this is my colleague, Galen Marek, but you probably know him by the code-name Starkiller, if you know him at all.'

    So, for Vincent Mikaru, even though the world was a far more complicated one, it had not seen fit to give him five minutes to take stock. Revelations were overrated.

    --
    Kyle Katarn took a deep breath as he filled his body again. He flexed his fingers, tensed his shoulders, and lifted his eyelids. The sense of having a solid mass again was uplifting, even if he could already feel a surge of welts having risen across his body; burns from Force lightning. His clothes were intact, but that was simply because such things did not come across from you; they were mental projections in the ersatz world, and as such not something your mind could replicate in real life.

    The Jedi Master coughed and started to rise. Crew members were dotted around them, maybe injured, one at least, by the unnatural angle of his neck, was dead. Droid parts were apparent, and someone had smeared blood on the bulkhead. Jan pulled herself over, leaned her head on the floor beside him, face looking pained. Kyle craned his neck to see that she had a black eye and split lip, but also that the hands were bloodied. Conceivably she had killed the Echani officer while under the influence of the dark side battle-lust. She closed her eyes and Kyle watched for a moment for the rhythmic action of breathing; she was simply exhausted. Many of the others were dazed. One, much further down the corridor, sat up and vomited.

    Kyle did not know how it ended, but it had ended, and all the man knew was that Kodo Prine had killed a man, a man who they didn't know, or, perhaps, one they did, but had done so without even offering a surrender or an option; Kyle had fallen into deeper darkness shortly thereafter.

    He sat up, wincing in pain, and leaned against the wall, and saw Kodo's form, similarly stirring. Kodo came too much as Kyle did, but not with wounds, save for whatever bruising in his tumbles. It was quiet, all too quiet, but what few crewers were able to stand or sit up did so warily, keeping their distance from the Kel Dor.

    Jan looked at him. 'What... What did you do me?'

    That was all it took, and the atmosphere became charged.

    Nobody knew what had happened. The only person who could vouch for him was Vincent; Kyle had been unconscious for most of his moment of truth.

    A pilot was already holding a blaster in his hand.

    ---
    Sneaking

    It was not particularly surprising that, with the chaos aboard, it was not reported that a cloaked ship had sidled up alongside one of the hangars, and nudged in. Had Rhoen not vouched for Juno, she would never have made it off the Salvation.

    After all, true cloaked ships were exceptionally rare. Double blind cloaks? Made illegal under the Bastion Accords, as the Galactic Concordance had not mentioned them, but they could be found. The utility of them was low, so nobody seemed inclined to develop them further. And the true cloaks were reliant upon an ore which was found on exactly one planet in the galaxy; and that planet had been destroyed over thirty years ago.

    As such they were rare enough that it would not be a terrific leap to say that there were exactly three true cloaked ships left in the Galaxy. It just so happened that all three were in the Yavin system.

    A woman in blond hair and a pilots uniform of a sleek black Imperial cut, looking completely unharmed. On arrival her husband had opened a private channel to her, keeping a comlink open on his body so that she was apprised of events. The nebulous madness was already subsiding, and so she brought her ship aboard. The encryption would be tough; the Hidden Jedi Order had kept their painstakingly acquired financial backers over time. A Muun, would you believe, had bankrolled them.

    They would need to join the 'Snoke Squad' if they intended to keep up the pressure and find Tholme. It was also not particularly surprising that the hangar she ended up choosing was that of the Moldy Crow, relatively close to Kodo and Kyle.

    Serendipity was no coincidence after the awakening.

    Eventually they might decide, as a crew, that they wanted Kodo off the ship, but that would not be soon.

    Which also meant a decision about Kodo would flow soon and often one answer rose from another.

    ---
    System Edge

    C-3PY simply glowered at Argen, if at all possible with droid eyes, as the shot buried into its chest and sent it slamming to the floor of the room. 'Yes, you did, Captain.' A smart man. He had simply taken the spacebum as just that. 'My master cannot allow for you to notify them as to the reinforcements. I will not maintain this charade for any longer.' In defiance of the threat, and the damage to its chassis, C-3PY stood and reached as quickly as he could with his finger to shoot the man.

    For Damask's part, he fretted in his sleep, nightmares and more beside. The Muun's mission was the basis of one turn after another. He was afraid.

    And not of the droid.

    The Scimitar quietly received a remote signal and idly went through its pre-flight. checklist.
    ---
    Musings of Darth Plagueis

    The combined efforts of the Heroes of Yavin - as they would become known, a title originally associated with Luke, Chewbacca, Threepio, Artoo, Han, and Leia - were proving too much for Snoke. Which was excellent.

    If they were too much for him, they would do just fine.

    That didn't mean it didn't hurt, of course.

    In the shadowed realm, his second body was shredded, caught between the efforts of Vincent's ur-descendants and Kodo. Had Vincent and his kin hit him with that powerful a blast before he had grown enough to separate his soul anew, that rending would have had, potentially, a very permanent result upon his life.

    As it was, a nimbus of electricity drew around his body and Snoke snarled. With a gesture, he drew apart his lingering connection to the shadow realm, infuriated in his failure to take the power he had acquired and pour it into a second vessel; he could have taken Leia! Or even Bre! Oh to be a changeling Force user. The potential tantalised him.

    He would have her, one way or the other.

    In reality, however, Genkal and Bre had wounded him, terribly so, and his shuttle was going to look more and more beaten up by thanks to the efforts of Rhoen, the crew of the Falcon, and Lysa. The stormtroopers he had brought, they were being troubled by Fett, Goran and Susular, the latter who was making a mess of the forest while he took shots at the Snoke One.

    He was on the back-foot; they had, together, in essence killed Darth Plagueis - once, but thankfully he had a spare life thanks to the power he had acquired.

    The Dark Lord of the Sith checked his mental chrono.

    Any moment now, the four Star Destroyers would arrive and give him all the cover he would need...

    Was it time for him to steal the Falcon?

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay, Darth_wanderguard, Ktala, HanSolo29, who is patenting madness, @Mitth-Fisto, galactic-vagabond422
    ---
    IC: Kylo Ren
    Stomping, Super Star Destroyer, Unknown Regions

    Ben Solo did not think of himself as Ben Solo. Ben Solo had been weak. He had been jealous of his siblings. He had resented his uncle. He had despised his father. He had hated the chaotic mess of the Galaxy.

    And so he had joined Supreme Leader Snoke and the First Order to make all those things right. He had destroyed the Jedi Order, and messy democracy, and was on his way to bringing his grandfathers legacy to fruition.

    He was not seeking to avoid his grandfather's 'mistakes' in falling to the dark side. He was only obsessing that he would have Darth Vader's fatal flaw. Sentimentality. Darth Vader had never intended passed beyond his attachments. He had simply been marred by them.

    Kylo Ren would be better.

    He had killed his father.

    And now he would kill his sister.

    And then he would hunt down his uncle and kill him too.

    After that, his brother and mother would be simple. The pacifist and the General who had never developed her full potential. Disappointing. Tragically so.

    His aunt may prove problematic, but her dependence on defending her accursed son, Ben Skywalker, would allow him to control her until it was too late. She should have been hunting him, like Jaina had been, but instead she was nursing a child who had by all accounts withdrawn from the Force.

    Pathetic.

    Kylo Ren had sufficiently psyched himself up to kill his sister when the turbolift doors opened. Behind him in the corridor stood half a dozen Stormtroopers, ready to shoot Jaina as they battled. He had already told them not to overly concern themselves with stray shots catching him - pain did not concern him, but they were uneasy, aware of his legendary temper and preponderance towards maiming and unnecessary killings.

    It mattered not.

    He ignited his tri-lightsaber.

    'Jaina Solo,' he said to the doors as the turbolift arrived. 'You shall now die.'

    The doors parted, and revealed a droid.

    With a comlink attached.

    Kylo Ren heard his breathing shorten, and saw red cloud his vision. He heard his troopers take quick steps backwards.

    His blade sang as he screamed in frustration.

    The droid died.

    The bulkheads scarred.

    The lift was ravaged.

    After a long spree and more than a dozen slashes, Kylo Ren paused, breathing from his exertions. He snarled. 'Where are you!'

    Cappie registered the message from the Millennium Falcon, and tootled it to Jaina as he rolled slowly, with minimal power being used, towards the hangar.

    Stay away…too dicey. Don't worry, I have everything under control; mom is safe. We'll meet up with you when we can. Be careful; don't do anything stupid. Miss you.

    Han Solo at his best.

    Cappie felt the droid equivalent of a smile run through its circuits.

    Of course, Jaina was a little busy not dying.

    The second trooper popped up from beneath the now melted desk and opened fire as the fourth continued to pour flame. The second trooper aimed for her face while the third prepared to dive in and slash low with his stun baton, looking to rip his arm up the moment he made contact - the other two were ready to cut contact if they could not finish her, insofar as much as the third trooper and his stun baton was ready to take the initiative if Jaina took down the others.

    They were a third second into the fight.

    TAG: @Lady_Belligerent


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk